


The Color of Secrets

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Drama, Friendship, Harry Potter Next Generation, Mystery, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-18
Updated: 2010-07-24
Packaged: 2018-10-26 16:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 73,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Random chance made them friends. Shared lust made them lovers. Ceaseless fear made them keep it all a secret. (Rose/Scorpius)





	1. Childhoods, in Red and White

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

XXXXXXX

  


**The Color of Secrets**

  


XXXXXXX

  


**Chapter One: Childhoods, in Red and White**

  


XXXXXXX

  


Hermione woke up to an empty bed. The house was quiet, so she knew everything must be all right. The drapes hung open and a slight breeze flew through the bedroom, rustling the stack of parchment on the bedside table. It was dark out, the sky a navy blue, but not quite black. Hermione sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She slid her feet into her slippers and took her robe off the end of the bed, pulling it on as she walked out of the bedroom.

  


Down the hall was a newly decorated room, in pale yellows and greens, one entire wall with an enchanted mural of frogs and ducks who liked to swim inside the painted lake. Hermione peered inside the room. Ron had a small baby in his arms, cradling her as they sat in the rocking chair.

  


“Shh,” he hushed. 

  


“Did she wake up? I didn't hear her.”

  


“I heard her starting to fuss before I went to bed. You've been asleep since four this afternoon.”

  


Hermione nodded. She had been so exhausted earlier. Their new baby had awoken every two hours the night before and Hermione got up each time, in case feeding her would calm her down. In the end, after eight hours of constant crying, nursing did the trick.

  


“She looks like you,” whispered Hermione.

  


“No, she looks like _you_.” Ron looked down at their daughter. 

  


Hermione crossed the room and pressed the palm of her hand against his cheek as she stood in front of the rocking chair. He looked up at her and she smiled.

  


“Why don't you put her to bed and then come to bed yourself?”

  


Ron nodded. “Sure.” He leaned his head back further and Hermione kissed his mouth softly. 

  


This was heavenly. Ron and their daughter were beautiful together, a perfect match, and Hermione was grateful to have such perfection in her life.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Their whole lives they both wanted children , whether or not they ever said it. They didn't talk about having children together until they had been dating for several months. There was a gathering at the Burrow so Bill and Fleur could show off their new baby. Ron held her and Hermione smiled at him, saying, “You'll be a great dad someday.”

  


When they had a moment alone, Ron asked her if she wanted to be a mum someday as well. Hermione said yes, and they looked at one another, somehow knowing that their future, together, included children. They married, as everyone already knew they would, and waited for almost two years before trying to have a baby.

  


Hermione took a leave of absence to the Ministry. She had just finished her work on helping the house elves and was set and ready to start a new assignment when she found out she was pregnant with Rose. There had been so much done for the house elves, which had always been Hermione's dream. She wasn't one to completely quit her job and become a housewife. However, she knew that a break would be good for her body and they could save money by not having to pay for a nanny for the baby.

By the time she filled in all the loose holes at work, she was six months pregnant. It was good timing because they hadn't even begun to buy anything for the baby or set up the new room. In fact, they hadn't even found a house!

  


Hermione and Ron looked for new houses on the weekends; they had been living in a two-bedroom home near London, but with a new baby, they wanted extra rooms so that Hermione wouldn't lose her office. It was difficult to please both Ron _and_ Hermione. Ron wanted lots of land to teach his children how to play Quidditch in the open air. Hermione wanted large rooms, especially a large room for all her work-things and books. Ron wanted a big kitchen to cook meals in. Hermione wanted to be near Hogwarts and the fabulous library there. Ron wanted to remain in England.

  


The house they found was in the country, in Scotland, with other houses close enough to see, but far enough away that they could never overhear their neighbors. The nearest neighbors were all witches and wizards, so Ron could teach his children to ride brooms without fear of Muggles seeing them fly. The room Hermione took for an office wasn't as large as she'd hoped, but there were built-in bookshelves from floor to ceiling, perfect for all her books. The kitchen was medium-sized, but Hermione had charmed the cabinets to hold an infinite amount of cooking necessities. Even though Ron had wanted to stay in England, Hermione reminded him just how much closer they were to Honeydukes now – which seemed to appease Ron.

  


Rose was born in that house, with the aid of a medi-witch and Ron by Hermione's side. Ron took two weeks off work to help with Rose, but eventually he had to go back to work. He didn't like leaving Hermione alone, knowing she was exhausted, but her mother came over to help on the weekends, and Ron's mother checked in during the week.

  


Once Rose began toddling around, Hermione began working on another project. It was in the research stages. She got every law book she could find and read through every wizarding law written. She made notes on the laws that left half-bloods with fewer rights than purebloods. 

Before Rose's second birthday, Hermione found out she was pregnant again. She had a moment of panic and anger. She was too sick in the mornings to work on her new project, but the moment she felt the new baby move, she knew this was right. Ron decided to leave his job at the Ministry and go work for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Working for George would allow him more flexible hours to come home and be with his family and help Hermione. It would also allow him more time with Hermione herself, which was something Hermione always knew was important to Ron.

  


When Rose was two and a half, Hugo was born. He was a squishy little thing who cried a lot and Rose seemed very put-off by him. Hermione tended to Hugo a lot the first couple of weeks and Rose bonded with her father. That bond never wore off and throughout the years, Rose was closer to Ron – and consequently, Hugo closer to Hermione. 

  


At Rose's fifth birthday party, everyone was there except for Lucy Weasley who was still kicking around in Audrey's stomach. She had a chocolate cake and asked for Chocolate Frogs and Quidditch supplies from all her relatives. Hermione got her a book on Quidditch, as was Hermione's style, but Ron got her a child-sized broom, charmed to fly exactly one and a half meters off the ground. It was a gift that changed her life.

  


Hugo was not only two years younger than Rose, but also always two steps behind. He wanted to read all the books she read, but couldn't yet. He wanted to climb onto the same broom, but was too small, too uncoordinated. There was jealousy there and Hermione picked up on it immediately. She couldn't figure out what Hugo was good at yet. He was clever, of course, but he didn't show any aptitude towards anything.

  


Rose, on the other hand, was very clever, but didn't show any interest in _trying_. She went to a Muggle school, just as her mother had, and while she scored the highest marks on her tests, her teachers complained that Rose barely handed in her homework. They complained that she drew pictures in her notebooks instead of doing her classwork, yet when she was called upon, she almost always knew the answer.

  


“She's got your brains, and my work ethic,” said Ron jokingly, “or at least, my _school_ work ethic.”

  


Luckily her marks in Muggle school had no bearing on whether she'd get accepted into Hogwarts. Hermione simply wanted her children exposed to the Muggle world, to understand them better, but to also understand their Muggle heritage better. Hugo seemed overly interested in the Muggle world, whereas Rose seemed interested in Quidditch and chocolate.

  


Rose turned eleven on Valentine's Day. She was budding into a very attractive young woman. Her hair was auburn, a direct cross between Ron's ginger and Hermione's brown. Her eyes were blue, just like Ron's. She had her mother's nose and mouth and her father's tall and lanky body. Fortunately, her lankiness hadn't become awkwardness, at least not yet. She was confident, but not overly so; she was quiet and didn't like to talk to new people. Her best friends were her family – Albus, Louis, and Roxanne especially, as they were all roughly the same age and entering Hogwarts at the same time. 

There were a lot of Weasleys at Hogwarts already. Victoire was entering her seventh year, Dominique, her fourth. Fred was also a fourth year and would be joined by his sister Roxanne. James had been at school for two years already and Albus was now eager to join (unfortunately, so was Lily and was very upset that she had to wait for another two years to join her brothers). Molly was a second year. Rose didn't much care for Molly; she was a bit stuck up. And Victoire and Dominique were always pleasant, but always spoke to one another in French. They were so much older that they didn't have much in common with Rose, but she did enjoy when they came over for giant dinners with the entire Weasley clan. 

  


Rose and Albus were particularly close in many, many ways. Roxanne, however, more easily understood Rose's interest in boys and they often giggled over the posters of the professional Quidditch players in Albus's room. Rose had always seen Albus much more than any of her other cousins, which was because their parents were such excellent friends. When Rose and Albus were accepted into Hogwarts, they read each other's letters (even though they were exactly the same) and begged their parents to take them to Diagon Alley _immediately_.

  


When it came time to go to King's Cross, neither of them could sleep the night before. Hermione checked on Rose several times that night, only to find her flipping through her books or reorganizing her trunk; she wanted everything to be perfect. In the end, Hermione was able to make Rose get in bed.

  


It reminded Hermione of when she was eleven, getting ready for her first journey upon the Hogwarts Express. Rose was very like her in so many ways. 

  


“ _Nox!_ ” Hermione whispered once she was sure her daughter was in bed for good, and left Rose's room.

  


XXXXXXX

  


“You were such a brat when we were little.”

  


Astoria's chin rested in her left hand as her right pushed the food on her plate around with her fork. She glanced at her sister, sitting at the end of the table. “What?” she said, even though she heard Daphne perfectly well.

  


“I said you were such a brat.”

  


“I was younger than you; I think that's a rule, isn't it? For younger sisters to be little snots?”

  


Scorpius laughed. He sat across the table from his mum and he generally laughed at anything containing the words “snot” or “bogey.”

  


“Eat your carrots,” instructed Astoria. 

  


Her husband sat next to her and she felt him place a hand on her thigh, as though to calm her down. Daphne was a stuck-up little princess, even though she was thirty-seven years old. They'd grown up with wealth and never knew the meaning of want. Daphne had married into the same sort of old, family wealth, and everything she owned was expensive and custom-made. Astoria's story was much different. Draco's parents had both passed on, in a rather unnatural way, but no one ever truly spoke of how they died. The fortune they'd left Draco was smaller than they'd realized – much smaller. Draco had a business going dealing in antiquities, but he had to double his profit just to continue their lavish lifestyle. Though her robes were always new and expensive, they weren't custom-made and she decorated her house on her own, instead of hiring someone else to do it. 

  


Everything was like that now. They had two house-elves, while Daphne had six. Oftentimes, Astoria had to prune her rose bushes herself because they couldn't afford a herbology-expert to come and tend to their gardens. It had humbled Astoria and angered Draco that they couldn't throw away money in the same way as they used to, but they were actually fairly happy.

  


Scorpius had turned out to be a lovely boy, very clever and very quiet. He liked to laugh, but he was shy and hadn't any friends yet. Astoria didn't like to attend the business parties Draco had for his clients, so she and Scorpius usually took a trip via Portkey on those weekends to see her grandparents in France. 

  


It was strange to think that Daphne came from the same parents as Astoria since they were so very different. However, Daphne was always favored. She was beautiful, slender with sleek hair and full lips. At Hogwarts, she always seemed to have a boyfriend, always surrounded by a large group of friends. At home, their mother doted on her, gave her the antique family diamond earrings to wear to the Christmas parties, introduced her to all the eligible pureblood wizards, and bought her robes made out of the finest silks. Astoria got new robes as well, but her name was often left out of introductions and the only jewelry she was ever given was from her grandparents, a simple locket when she turned seventeen. 

  


“Are you listening to me?” asked Daphne, clearly annoyed.

“No,” answered Astoria. “Why are you here if you're going to be rude? This is my house and this is the last dinner I'm going to have with my son until Christmas holiday. He leaves for Hogwarts in the morning and I'd like to have some peace at my dinner table. Scorpius, eat your carrots.”

  


“You're too stressed,” said Daphne. “If you could go to the auction block on Saturday, get yourself another house-elf, then you wouldn't have to do so much work.”

  


“I don't want another house-elf.”

  


“Can you afford it? Has _he_ started making you work for him? Keeping his books? Like a servant?”

  


Astoria felt heat rise in her body. She had let it slip to her sister that instead of paying someone else to keep track of his antiques and profits and all his other bookkeeping, Draco had asked if she, his wife, had wanted to do it instead. She gladly agreed, not seeing anything wrong with it. Daphne, on the other hand, didn't think that wives of pureblood wizards should have to lift a finger except to put on expensive, glittering rings. Astoria considered Draco to be her one true love and that was more important than jewelry or gold. She didn't need material things to make her happy; she was already happy enough with her husband nad son.

  


“Yes, I keep the books and yes, we can afford another elf.” Astoria knew this wasn't true. The house-elf auction block was really a nicer name for the house-elf black market. Hermione Weasley had somehow convinced the Ministry to pass a law, giving house-elves _rights_ , including small salaries if they wanted, and the ability to have time off and be free. They could quit their families if they didn't like and they could wear clothes if they so chose. Some house-elves weren't comfortable with this new freedom, but others exercised all their rights. The new laws meant no one could buy or trade house-elves any more, so getting a new one was expensive; witches and wizards had to negotiate fees and work schedules. There were binding spells put on some house-elves, connecting them to the witch or wizard who bought them in illegal auctions, forcing the elves to do everything their masters told them to do, just as the tradition had been for thousands of years before Hermione Weasley came along.

  


“Mum, how come you and Auntie always fight?”

  


“We're sisters and sisters always fight,” Daphne replied. “Eat your carrots, like your mother said. I'm going into the kitchen and see what pudding you have.”

  


Astoria watched her sister leave the room. “She's impossible!” she cried when Daphne was out of earshot.

  


“Just be glad her little snotty children aren't going to Hogwarts to torment Scorpius.”

  


“I can take care of myself,” mumbled Scorpius.

  


“I know you can, son, but your cousins are vicious. I'd rather you focus on schoolwork than worry about seeking revenge on other students.”

  


“What about the Potter and the Weasley kids? Aren't there a million of them in school already?”

  


Astoria laughed. “Yes, there are. They're taking over Hogwarts, but you mustn't fight with them.”

  


“Don't we hate them?”

“No!” 

  


Draco cleared his throat. “You can hate them if you want--”

  


“Draco!”

  


“--but remember it's more important to do better in school than them. If you fight, do it in defense. If you _start_ a fight, you'll get punished. Let _them_ get the house points taken away, not you. You have to be clever about these things.”

  


“Draco, that is terrible advice. Sweetheart, we want you to do well in school so you can get all your NEWTs and get a good job.”

  


“But we also want you to do better than the Weasleys, especially the ones who are also half-Granger.”

  


“Don't listen to your father. You need to do what's good for you, to get yourself ahead. Think of your future, after Hogwarts. But don't get in fights.”

  


“You are number one, Scorpius, remember that. Your mother is right about doing what's best for you.”

  


“Do your homework and study for your exams. Have fun, though. Make sure you take your set of Gobstones and Exploding Snaps. I wish you could take your broom, but first-years aren't allowed. Still, book some time on the pitch to fly around. I know you enjoy a good fly.”

  


“Yes, Mum.”

  


“Eat your carrots, son,” instructed Draco. He softly squeezed Astoria's thigh, as though to reassure her that Scorpius was going to be all right at Hogwarts. Still, she knew she was going to miss her only son greatly.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Astoria had always known who Draco was in school. He was a few years ahead of her, in her sister's year, and while she didn't fancy him, she did notice him. Shamefully, she had a slight attraction to Harry Potter. Perhaps it was his predilection towards death, that dangerous will-he-or-won't-he-die-today question that lingered in the air whenever he walked by. He wasn't overly good-looking, but there was excitement surrounding him. She didn't like how he associated with everyone, regardless of blood status; that was unacceptable in Astoria's eyes, or at least unacceptable when she was school-aged and her opinions were influenced by her parents.

  


A few years after she had left school, she bumped into Draco in Flourish and Blotts. She reached for a book, he reached for the same book, and they ended the afternoon with some drinks at the Leaky Cauldron. She confessed her attraction to Harry, after several drinks, but Draco didn't laugh with her. He wasn't amused, yet he seemed more aggressive after her admission. Perhaps he wanted to have someone who liked him better than Harry, perhaps she was a conquest, but it didn't matter because she fell in love with him and she _knew_ he loved her as well.

  


The Greengrasses were not amused by the news of their relationship. The Malfoys were not well-thought of anymore; nowadays no one wanted to be associated with Death Eaters. Still, Astoria was strong-willed and didn't much care what her parents thought. At first, her sister Daphne wasn't fond of Draco, but was pleased that her sister was dating a pureblood. Later, Daphne began to despise Draco as much as her parents. The only people who didn't seem to mind Draco were Astoria's grandparents, with whom she had always been closest.

  


They were married less than a year after having met, and Scorpius was conceived almost immediately thereafter. Draco appeared very stoic, but Astoria was able to see a different side to him. She ignored everything with the Death Eaters and dismissed all the rumors she heard about his family. Draco was a different person now, although in many ways very much the same.

  


His reaction to the news of Scorpius was calm. He didn't smile or hug her. He simply said, “All right,” and, “Do you think it's a girl or a boy?” 

  


Their marriage began quietly and even after Scorpius was born, remained quiet. As a baby, he was tiny and thin, only crying when he was hungry. He didn't talk until he was almost four; instead he drew pictures and gave them to Astoria so she could charm them to move. More than pictures, he liked to fly. It was something he and his father shared a love for and Astoria adored watching them out in the back garden on their brooms together.

  


Scorpius was very intuitive, Astoria had learned. He observed everything and forgot nothing. Over the years, she and Draco dropped comments about the Weasley family, about how Draco had to be extra careful in his work, because Ron Weasley and Harry Potter were both part of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Draco was convinced they would look for any excuse to investigate him. After the Final Battle was over and the news of it died down, neither Harry nor Ron acknowledged Draco's presence whenever they saw him. Perhaps there might be a nod of hello, but not every time. Astoria knew that Draco felt himself too important to ignored, so Harry and Ron's behavior always put him in the worst of moods.

  


When Scorpius was eight, he met his first magical friend. Another wizarding family moved in the house next door and they had a son about Scorpius's age. Scorpius and the other boy, whose name was Antonin, played outside nearly everyday and made up a secret language that they used to talk to one another in front of their parents. Astoria pretended she didn't know what they were saying, but it had actually only taken her a few days to figure out their special code.

  


A few months after they first met, Antonin had a birthday party, but didn't invite Scorpius. Scorpius was devastated; he stomped around the house, barking orders at the house-elves, and slamming doors. Astoria marched right over to Antonin's parents, demanding to know what their problem was.

  


“We didn't realize you were a Malfoy,” Antonin's mother said.

  


“How did you not know?”

  


“Scorpius said your name was Astoria _Greengrass_.”

  


“It was, but now it's Astoria Malfoy. What's the problem?”

  


“We know all about the Malfoy family and we don't want our family or friends to know that our boy ever associates with a Malfoy. Now, if you please, can you get off my back step? My guests will wonder where I am. I can send Antonin over tomorrow with some leftover cake for Scorpius. I do not wish his feelings to be hurt. I know you can understand, yes? Good day.”

  


Astoria never allowed Scorpius to see Antonin again, but after another few months, his family moved away so the problem solved itself. At that moment, Scorpius seemed to understand the meaning of having the Malfoy name. Some people wanted to know the Malfoys and associated them with wealth and power. Others, like Antonin's family, wanted nothing to do with them. Scorpius realized his name was both a blessing and a curse. It was something Astoria hated for her son, but it was best for him to understand the truth and to grow up with a sense of realism.

  


Scorpius didn't have any other friends, so when the time came for his Hogwarts letter to arrive, Astoria was especially pleased. He would finally get a real chance to interact with other children and make real friends. She hoped he would be able to; she hoped his isolation hadn't killed any social skills he may have once had. She knew Hogwarts would be good for him and she was so excited for her son. 

  


As excited as she was, she knew she was going to miss him terribly. Draco had planned for a trip once Scorpius was gone, to get Astoria's mind off him leaving. They were going to go to France and visit her grandparents, and then off to Asia to explore. Astoria knew Draco was going to do business while in Asia, but she had to admit she was excited to finally have alone time with her husband and also see other wizarding cultures at the same time. If Draco was excited, he didn't show it; he hardly ever showed any emotion other than anger.

  


Daphne came over the night before Scorpius left for school, but she returned home shortly after she ate all the chocolate pudding. Astoria sent Scorpius upstairs to bathe and get ready for bed, but told him not to turn off the lights until she'd had a chance to say goodnight.

  


She hadn't tucked her son in since he was eight years old, but she felt the need to do it on his last night home. She went upstairs and down the hall to his room. Stopping outside his door, she looked at the old Quidditch poster he had on his door. She let herself inside and gazed about Scorpius's room. He had Quidditch memorabilia everywhere and all of his colors were in green and orange.

  


“You don't have to put me to bed. I'll be doing it myself for the next seven years.”

  


“I know, but this is your last night, so I wanted to say goodnight properly.” Astoria sat on the edge of Scorpius's bed. “Don't go sneaking off the grounds and don't go to Hogsmeade. That Madam Rosmerta has a sharp eye for students who aren't third-years or above.”

  


“I thought she was ancient?”

  


“She's old, but not blind. Her niece runs the place, but Rosmerta still owns it.”

  


“I'll be careful. Don't worry.”

  


“I'm your mother, I'm supposed to worry.” She smiled and touched her son's cheek. “Goodnight.”

  


“'Night.”

  


Scorpius turned over and buried himself under the covers. Astoria stood. With a whispered, “ _Nox!_ ” she left the room and shut his door.

  


XXXXXXX

  


On September first, Rose and Scorpius saw each other for the first time, on the platform. They were with their parents, waiting anxiously for the train to depart. Their palms were sweaty and their heads swimming; the train was overwhelming and all the older students intimidating. Neither of them knew quite what to think about going to Hogwarts for the first time.

  


Scorpius looked over at Rose; Rose looked over at Scorpius. They didn't know each other's names, but they knew their families. Scorpius knew she was a Weasley, standing amongst the Weasley-Potter clan. The children all looked different, red hair and brown hair, tall and short, thin and stocky – but what he recognized were the parents, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, from pictures in wizarding history books. And even though they helped save the wizarding world, Scorpius knew he was supposed to hate them.

  


Rose knew Scorpius was a Malfoy. She heard her dad say something about them, but over her eleven years, she had heard stories about Draco Malfoy. She knew there was mutual dislike between Draco and her family. She knew they didn't like him, didn't like that he was able to have a wand and be a normal wizard. Her father was very ill towards the Malfoys. She knew Draco had been horrible to her mother when they were in school. Even though it wasn't specifically said, Rose knew she was supposed to hate them.

  


They looked at each other, recognized each other, but it ended there. Rose got on the train and found seats with her cousins. Scorpius boarded and found an empty compartment and pulled out a book. That moment on the platform was the last time they really thought about the other, and were able to go through several school terms without so much as a glance at each other.

  


Until they were sixth-years.

  


XXXXXXX

  


**To Be Continued ...**

  


XXXXXXX


	2. Gold Reflections

XXXXXXX

  


**Chapter Two: Gold Reflections**

  


XXXXXXX

  


_April 2023_

  


XXXXXXX

  


“You're going to be late for class!” shouted Hugo.

  


Rose stopped on the stairs to the girls' dormitory and turned around to face her younger brother. “Hugo – you don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine.”

  


“Come on, Dad's hidden a dozen letters from Mum! Do you want to add another one about how you can't manage to get to class on time?”

  


“You're perfect, Hugo. Mum loves you. She's a clever witch for her old age, isn't she? She'll know you can't force me to get to class on time.”

  


Hugo looked as though he wanted to say something else. “Fine, but I'm just trying to help!”

  


“If Dad is hiding letters from Mum, that's _his_ problem.”

  


“But the letters are about you! Staying out past curfew and--”

  


“ _Hugo_ ,” moaned Rose, “stop worrying about me. I don't do anything bad. You _know_ me; I sometimes get hungry in the middle of the night and want to nick some food from the kitchens. It's not like I'm breaking into the Charms classroom to find the answers to our exams.”

  


Hugo paled. “You wouldn't.”

  


“Of course not! If you keep talking to me I _will_ be late for class. Stop worrying about me!”

  


Hugo groaned but whirled around and ran for the door. Rose shook her head in disbelief. How the two of them shared the same parents was beyond her. They were nothing alike. Hugo studied like a madman and made detailed weekly schedules of what he would study, when, and where. He was completely out of his mind.

  


Hugo had always been like that, though. Even back when they went to Muggle primary school, Hugo did all his homework and scheduled time to study. He asked their mother countless questions about his homework, gathering as much information as he could, even if it wasn't relative to his work. He liked to store everything in his brain, in case he needed the information later.

  


Once, when Rose was about ten, her teacher rang her parents, to inform them that she was not doing her homework and her participation in class was severely lacking. Hermione hung up the kitchen phone and turned around to face Rose, who sat at the table, drawing pictures of the neighbor's dog.

  


“That was your teacher. She said you haven't done your homework in nearly three weeks and you don't speak up in class and never raise your hand. I hope you fail her class, Rose! Why can't you be more like your brother?” Hermione had asked, hands on her hips and looking quite cross. “He always does his homework and his marks are impeccable.”

Ron, who had been using his wand to chop carrots by the sink, immediately whirled around and interjected. “Rose is different than Hugo, Hermione. She may not be interested in school, but she's clever, let's not forget that!”

  


As Rose grew older, she knew that her mother didn't mean to hurt her feelings by comparing her to her little brother. Hermione simply did not understand why anyone wouldn't want to do their homework or try to do their best at their schoolwork. However, her mother grew up as an only child, so she did not understand sibling rivalry or what it felt like to be compared to a little brother. Ron understood this perfectly; he always stood up for Rose and reminded Hermione of the differences between their children. Somehow his words seemed to make Rose feel better, though she never thought she was his favorite. She just thought they were most alike. Rose loved her father dearly, but she also loved her mother very, very much.

  


Leaving her memories behind and climbing up the stairs to the dormitory, Rose knew that her brother was right about one thing; she was going to be late for Transfiguration. Hugo would probably have to be committed to the hospital wing for several days if he was late for a class. Even though he was the “perfect” child, it didn't really bother Rose. She knew she was clever, but school didn't hold enough interest for her. Oftentimes her mind wandered to other things, namely Quidditch and art. She drew random pictures, but lots of times she found herself drawing funny pictures for her uncle George's shop and coming up with new ideas for jokes and pranks. Her mother couldn't say too much, because after all, her father worked at the joke shop himself. Still, her mother's wishes for Rose were greater than jokes and flying a broomstick. There was unconditional love in her family, but Rose couldn't help but think her mother would be disappointed if she didn't amount to something truly great.

  


Once she got upstairs to her dormitory, Rose looked around frantically for her Transfiguration book. Her clothes and bed linens were scattered all around the sixth-year girls' dormitory, making it even harder to find anything in the mess. There were four beds in the circular room and three of them were neatly made. Rose's bed was a disaster. She had her Transfiguration notebook, with the notes she haphazardly took, words written in between doodles and drawings. And while she'd looked through all her things and thrown everything around, she still couldn't find her schoolbook.

  


“Damn it.” She glanced at her watch. The big hand pointed to _You're Late_ and the little hand pointed to _Transfiguration._ She knew she might have two minutes to get to class before she'd be officially late, but there was no way that was going to happen. Her Wednesday Transfiguration class was an hour earlier than her Monday and Friday classes, so she always seemed to be late for it. Leaving her book behind, Rose grabbed her notes and ran from the dormitory. She tripped on her shoelace halfway down the stairs to the common room. With a flick of her wand, her laces tied and she continued on her way.

  


She ran right through Nearly Headless Nick and almost plowed right into a couple of lost-looking first-years. By the time she got to the Transfiguration classroom, she was almost five minutes late. Professor Grimstone clicked her tongue in disapproval, her gray eyes narrowing as Rose slunk into the last seat in the back of the classroom.

  


“Turn to page six-hundred-ninety-four.”

  


“This is just great,” mumbled Rose.

  


“What is?”

  


Rose turned. She hadn't even paid attention to who she sat next to. “I couldn't find my book and Grimstone wants us to use them today – even though we haven't used them in months!” she whispered harshly, her eyes flickering between Scorpius's face and his Transfiguration book. 

  


“We used it last week.”

“No we didn't . . . we did?”

  


Scorpius smirked. “Yeah. One of those classes you skivved off.”

  


“I don't _skive_ off classes. I'm sure I was ill.”

  


Socrpius sniggered. “Right. Sick of class, more like.” There was a lighthearted tone to his voice.

  


Rose opened her mouth, thinking of responding, but pressed her lips together instead. There was a twinkle in Scorpius's eye, as though jovial. But Rose never thought of Scorpius Malfoy as someone who joked around. He was quiet, studious. He always carried around a satchel full of books with him and if he wasn't actually on the Slytherin Quidditch team, Rose would have assumed he didn't know how to do anything other than study. 

  


He was a Chaser on the Slytherin team and was surprisingly, rather good at it. Some of the other students joked with him about playing professional Quidditch once he left Hogwarts, but Rose never imagined Scorpius as an athlete. With all those books and notes, she thought him more likely to become the next Minister of Magic. 

  


“Here, you can look at my book, but don't be distracting.”

“ _Me_ , distracting?”

  


Scorpius nodded. “I see you all the time, drawing instead of taking notes.”

  


“You watch me?”

  


“No more than I watch anyone else.”

  


Rose sighed. It probably didn't matter if she had her book or not, she rarely used it anyway. Just as Scorpius predicted, she doodled all over the margins of her parchment, barely listening to anything Professor Grimstone had to say. Today her pictures were of Muggle houses and cars, Muggle men wearing jeans and t-shirts with trainers; she liked the way Muggles dressed and almost laughed at herself for drawing such absurd things. Most magical artists drew everyday things like dragons or fairies, but she opted for Muggle men and women. How dull.

  


When the class ended, Rose was startled. Well over an hour flew by and she hardly noticed. She gathered her things and made her way to the door. Professor Grimstone stood there, handing out the class's most recent essay. She stopped Rose in the middle of the doorway.

  


“Miss Weasley, another astounding piece of writing from you.”

  


“Er . . . thanks.”

  


“May I ask who wrote it for you?”

  


Rose flushed. “No one. I mean, other than me.”

  


“Your conclusion resembles Gerard Bonaccord's.”

“Oh. Coincidence.” She heard her heart beating loudly between her ears.

  


“Is it? Your conclusions often resemble Mr. Bonaccord's.”

  


“Is that so . . . ?” Rose flustered. 

  


“Fascinating, isn't it, how someone as clever as you, who is always the first to correctly Transfigure whatever I give them, cannot write an essay without assistance?”

“I can do my homework without help.” There was a slightly fierce tone to her voice.

  


Professor Grimstone shook her head. “You're such a clever witch, but your work ethic . . .” She clicked her tongue. “I will see you next class with the next assignment ready. If it resembles any other student's work, I shall give you a zero and report you to the Headmistress – and your mother.”

Rose nodded. “Yes, ma'am.” She exited the classroom as quickly as possible, only slowing down when she rounded the corner in the hallway. Heavy, deep breaths cut through the silence in the corridor. It wasn't an abandoned part of the building, but most of the other students didn't use it.

  


“I thought you'd come down here.”

  


Rose jumped at the sound of another voice. “Albus, you scared the _crap_ out of me. Did you hear Grimstone back there?”

“Yeah, it was brutal. Maybe you should stop getting Gerry to write your essays for you. I keep telling you--”

“Stop acting like such a prefect all the time.”

  


“But I _am_ a prefect.”

  


“I think we were switched at birth because you are exactly like my mother. Exactly like Hugo, too, actually.”

  


“You're more like your mum than you think. You're the cleverest witch I know.”

  


Rose shook her head. “No . . . I'm not. I just needed a breather. I feel better now. What time is it, anyway? I have to get to Charms.” She could have easily looked at her watch, but she didn't feel like moving her body.

  


“You have a couple minutes. I'm going to Care of Magical Creatures. I'll see you at lunch, then?”

  


“Sure.” She watched her cousin walk down the corridor. It was amazing, really, how well they got along, considering they were both so different. Perhaps there was hope for her and Hugo after all.

  


Rose was a bit mortified that Professor Grimstone had called her out on having another student help her with her homework. In fairness, Gerard Bonaccord never seemed to mind fleshing out her essays and making them better. In fact, she'd heard loads of stories about her parents when they were students at Hogwarts. Her mother used to help her father with his homework all the time. Of course, her parents were destined to be together and Rose didn't have any romantic interest in Gerry.

  


Collecting her thoughts, Rose began walking towards the Charms classroom.

  


XXXXXXX

  


It was beautiful this time of year, near the lake. The sun reflected off the water in deep golds. Rose felt a warm breeze rustle through the trees behind her. She loosened her tie and untucked her shirt. Her stomach was still full from overeating at lunch, so she decided to skip dinner and come outside. There was peace and comfort in the outdoors. Nature was beautiful and unyielding and unprejudiced. Nature didn't care who you were or what you'd done or whether you made it to class on time; it would rain on you if it wanted to.

  


Footsteps approached Rose from behind. She knew they belonged to Gerard Bonaccord. He was a fellow sixth-year Gryffindor and very clever. Most everybody thought he was a sure-thing for Head Boy next year. He wasn't a prefect, surprisingly enough, but he obeyed all the rules. He looked a lot like her uncle Harry, with unruly black hair and dark eyes. His build was stocky, but not fat. His personality was genuine and his nature good. And he was hopelessly in love with her.

  


“Hello, Gerry.”

  


“You always know when it's me.”

  


“Always,” she agreed. “Did you hear about Professor Grimstone?”

  


“Yeah, I'm sorry I ran out of class so quickly and missed it! I heard it was awful.”

  


“Being accused of cheating wasn't exactly pleasant. Though it's probably my own fault. I'm not going to be able to study with you anymore, Gerry.”

  


Rose glanced at Gerry. His face was stiff, expressionless. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but she _had_ been taking advantage of him the last couple of years, getting extra help with assignments she didn't feel like doing. She was feeling guilty about it, suddenly. She didn't want to break his heart or use him. That wasn't right.

  


“No studying at all?”

  


“Not for right now. The school year only has a short bit of time left, so we can start studying again next year, but right now I don't want to get accused of cheating. And I know if I study with you, I'll ask for help.” Rose tried to smile. “I don't want to get you in any trouble, either!” she added as an afterthought.

  


“I understand.”

  


“You do? Fantastic. I don't want us to stop being friends, so we can still hang out as long as there aren't any books about.”

  


“It's all right,” said Gerry, disappointment dripping off his words. “Maybe we can go to Hogsmeade together.”

  


“Absolutely.” Rose reached out and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I'm going to work on that essay now, all right?” Her fingers curled around Gerry's shoulder a second time before she walked away from the lake and towards the castle. She didn't want to look back because somehow she felt as though she had just broken up with a boyfriend, even if Gerry was anything but. 

  


She swallowed back the guilt and focused on having to write her essay . . . she just hoped she remembered how to do her homework without help!

  


XXXXXXX

  


Rose went to the library, a place she usually avoided, and sat at a table already occupied by two Hufflepuffs. The library was full, as it usually was in the weeks before N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s. Rose heard muffled sobs from a couple tables over; already someone was having a study-induced breakdown. It happened every year because some students couldn't handle the stress of exams. Last year she had to take Albus to the hospital wing just before O.W.L.s when he began to twitch and couldn't stop. He was diagnosed with sleep deprivation and given several sleeping draughts over the following week. When he awoke, he was better, until he learned he lost a week of study time and began to cry uncontrollably.

  


That was all in the past. Right now was essay time. Rose looked at her Transfiguration book. The words might as well have been written in German for all Rose could understand them. The chapter was on theory and discovery of Transfiguration spells that turned animals into inanimate objects. Rose understood it all. She understood why it was more difficult to transfigure a dog than it was a rat, or why it was easier to transfigure any animal into a dinner plate than it was to transfigure it into a banquet table. She didn't need a book to tell her that, yet she knew if she wrote what she considered to be common sense into her essay, Professor Grimstone would accuse her of not reading the textbook. 

  


Her eyes left the pages and roamed around the library. There weren't many sixth-years, but Rose knew enough students to recognize most of the fifth- and seventh-years who were ferociously studying and revising. In the corner was a fifth-year Hugo had fancied for the better part of a lifetime, a girl who lived with her parents in the same part of the countryside. Her name was Maisie and she was lovely, very clever, with a penchant for Herbology. Rose couldn't help but smile to herself at the thought of Hugo and Maisie.

  


After Maisie, her eyes wandered over to another table, right next to hers, full of Slytherins. They weren't necessarily a nasty group. Rose had heard horror stories when she was growing up of how terrible Slytherins were; she half-expected the house to be full of ogres and monsters. Nowadays, she found, Slytherins stuck to themselves. There was very little mingling with other houses. A rare few meandered away from their silver-and-green-clad friends to date or study with the other students, but it was practically unheard of.

  


This group of Slytherins were all very clever, a studious sort. Rose always saw them with arm-loads of books and notes, their lips moving silently as they recited spells and theories to themselves, trying to commit it all to memory. Scorpius Malfoy sat at this table. He was at the corner nearest Rose, only a few centimeters away. They'd never really had a conversation, other than to ask about a homework assignment if they happened to pass in the corridors at the right moment. Frequently, he walked to and from class with a female student, but Rose had never taken a close enough look to see who she was. Really, Rose had never taken a good look at Scorpius in general. She had no idea how tall he was or if his face was clear of blemishes. Not even his eye color.

  


Oh. They were a bluish-gray . . . 

  


Rose felt her face heat up. Scorpius had looked right at her, catching her staring at him!

  


“Are you all right?”

  


Rose nodded. “Day dreaming, I suppose. Not really paying attention to where I am or who I am looking at . . .”

  


“Are you working on Grimstone's assignment?”

  


“Yes.”

  


“That was right rotten of her to single you out like that.”

“I know,” grumbled Rose, not wanting to talk about it.

  


“You're really good at Transfiguration, though. I've always envied the way you can just transfigure everything. My marks aren't nearly as high as yours.”

  


“I'm sure your marks are fine.”

  


Scorpius shrugged. “Decent.”

  


“I don't believe in formal marking. I think it creates too much pressure on students to do well and remember facts that are unnecessary.”

  


“Really?” Scorpius laughed. “You're mad.”

  


Rose couldn't help but smile. “Perhaps a little.”

  


“Do you really believe that?”

  


“No. I just don't care about marks. Well – that's not true. I do care enough not to fail and I did study last year for O.W.L.s to ensure I wouldn't get any D's or T's, but otherwise I don't much care for school. I'd rather play Quidditch.”

  


“Sometimes that's me as well. I do like school and I like my classes, but I get tired of studying and I'd rather go flying.”

  


“You do nothing but study.”

  


“It seems that way, doesn't it? Right boring life sometimes.” Scorpius shrugged. “I need to do what it takes to be the best. There's no point in trying if you're not trying to be number one.”

  


“That's mad.”

  


“Why?”

  


Rose wasn't sure how to answer. “Why is it so important to be number one?”

  


Scorpius visibly stiffened. “I want to get a good job when I leave school.”

  


“I see. What do you want to be?”

  


“I don't know yet. Perhaps an Unspeakable. They get to work with the most advanced magics. I hear it can be dangerous, too.”

  


“Oh, you like a bit of danger, do you? I hear girls love the dangerous sort, the bad boys.”

  


“I'm hardly a bad boy. Perhaps if I got a tattoo then more girls would fancy me.”

  


“Tattoos are hideous, don't you dare! Besides, don't you have a girlfriend?”

  


“Yes. Ada Fenwick.”

  


“A _Ravenclaw_?” Rose was absolutely astonished. “That's . . . really? A Ravenclaw? I'd never guess. Really?”

  


“Don't act so surprised. I'm in Slytherin House, not Spattergroit House. People do occasionally want to talk to me and they are certainly able to without fear of being infected.” 

  


Scorpius seemed affronted and offended. Rose wanted to kick herself.

  


“That's – what? No one has a problem with your House. Have people given you crap for being in Slytherin?”

  


Scorpius shook his head, but didn't offer a verbal answer.

  


Rose changed the subject. “So you'd rather work at the Ministry than be a Quidditch player? You're pretty good at it.”

  


“No,” replied Scorpius, “I don't think so. Anyway, good luck on that essay. I need to get back to studying.”

  


Rose nodded. She felt somehow defeated. Now there was no excuse not to work on her essay. She took a deep breath and dove right into her essay, not stopping until it was finished. By the time it was done, Scorpius had left the library, along with the rest of the table. Rose hadn't noticed they'd gone until she gathered up her books and looked over at the empty table. She hadn't meant to offend Scorpius, but she somehow had. 

  


It was the last conversation they would have for another three weeks.

  


XXXXXXX

  


It was the same night, but several kilometers away, at the Weasley household. 

  


“ _Hermione!_ ” Ron yelled from the kitchen. “Her _mione!_ ”

  


Hermione Apparated into the room with a _pop!_ “You don't have to keep shouting; I heard you the first time. Did you cook dinner?”

  


“Yes. So, will you sit at the table and shut up? I have to talk to you about something.”

  


“I know, you've told me fourteen times since I got home from work. You don't want to try another Daydream out on me, do you? The previous one lasted for six hours before it wore off.”

“No, George fixed that problem rather quickly. This has nothing to do with the joke shop.” Ron paused. “Well, perhaps a little. Will you just sit already?”

  


Hermione sat down at the kitchen table, waving her wand and Summoning the pitcher of pumpkin juice from the counter. She poured herself a glass and sat the pitcher down on the table. Ron brought over two platefuls of food and sat across from his wife. His palms were sweaty from anxiety. He knew there was nothing to be nervous about, but he simply couldn't help it.

  


“Love of my life--”

“Don't!” cried Hermione. “Whenever you start a sentence with 'love of my life' it always turns out to be something I am not going to like.”

  


“This isn't bad, I swear.”

  


Hermione looked reluctant but she nodded for Ron to continue.

  


“I am considering quitting the joke shop.”

  


“Altogether?”

  


“Yes.”

  


Hermione looked confused. “Whatever for? You love working there.”

  


“It's a juvenile job.”

  


“It's perfect for you.”

  


“Oh, because I'm juvenile?”

  


Hermione shook her head. “No, no, because you set your own hours and take whole days off whenever you want. You love it. . . . And because you're a bit juvenile, I suppose.”

  


“Hurmph.” Ron scrunched up his face.

  


“Don't give me that look.”

  


Not wanting to argue, even if most of their bickering was their way of foreplay, Ron softened his expression. “Harry has been asking me to come back and work with him. Now that he's head of the entire department, he wants people he trusts on his team. There's a case he's involved with and he'd like my help figuring it out.”

  


“Aurors don't investigate. They go in and catch the Dark wizards.”

  


Ron nodded. “I know. Harry wants me to head up one of his investigation teams. Apparently they're having to work with some Muggle authority and the people he's got now don't know how to talk to Muggles very well. I guess I know more about Muggles than anyone else on his team. I've been around your family loads of times and none of them think I'm weird or different, do they?”

  


“My parents take your eccentricity with a lot of humor because they know you're of the magical sort. My cousins and grandparents think you're adorable.”

  


“Adorable?”

  


“Absolutely.”

  


Ron grinned. “Cool.”

  


“I work under Harry in the department; I wonder why he wouldn't ask me since I probably know more about Muggles than anyone else he knows.”

  


“Don't take it personally, Hermione. You're so bloody busy with your work and Harry knows that. He thinks it's important to overturn all the laws that are biased against Muggle-borns and half-bloods just like you do. I know he doesn't want to take that away from you.”

  


“That's true, I suppose.”

  


“It's completely true.” Ron looked hopefully at Hermione.

  


“Tell me more about this investigation,” she asked after a lengthy pause. She picked up her fork and held it in her hand, but didn't touch her food with it yet.

  


“I don't really know much about it. Harry wants someone who can drive a car and I got my license already. I guess it deals a great bit with Muggles, now that I think about it. It's got something to do with stolen goods and some underground organization.”

  


“How is the magical world involved in that?”

  


“The goods are wizard-made, is the theory, and Muggles are getting their hands on them. You should eat – your dinner's getting cold.”

  


Hermione looked down at the fork in her hand. “Yes, of course. . . .”

  


“I think I'm going to do it.”

“Work with Harry.”

  


“Yeah,” replied Ron with a nod. “George can spare me. He's got loads of good applicants.”

  


“Will he _want_ to spare you?”

  


“Dunno. He'll be all right. When this investigation is over, I can always go back to the joke shop.” Ron piled a forkful of potatoes into his mouth. He chewed, his eyes fixated upon his wife as she took small bites, chewed thoughtfully, and then carefully picked out the next bit of food to place on her fork. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but it was still wild as ever. There were laugh lines around her mouth and her eyes, getting deeper over time, but they were beautiful, telling stories of their lives. Ron took pride in the times he was able to make Hermione laugh, especially after all these years. 

  


“I think it's great. If it's what you want to do then you should do it. Let me know how I can be of help.”

  


“Yeah.”

  


“I mean, I know loads about Muggles, so naturally, I assumed I would be--”

  


“Hermione, shut up. Who else would I go to with questions? You know bloody everything. I wouldn't ask anyone else for help. Don't worry.”

  


“I'm not worried.”

  


“Yes, you are. You're a complete worrier. All the time.” Ron grinned. “You're really sexy, too, actually.”

  


“Oh, Ron, stop it.”

  


“No. I'm serious. Let's forget all about dinner and go upstairs.”

  


“Ron!”

  


“The kids will be back soon for the summer and we won't be able to sneak away as often or else they'll realize what we're doing.”

  


“Don't you think our children know their parents have sex?”

  


“Yeah, but do you think they know how often?” Ron sat back in his chair and looked at his hands. “I wonder if I can count on two hands the number of times we did it last week.”

  


“ _Ron._ ”

  


“There was the time in the shower. And the kitchen table. Where else? Well, at least four times in bed. Once in the car on the way to your parents house when we had to go on that detour and got a bit lost--”

  


“I understand your point, Ron.”

  


“--but I think I'm missing a few.”

  


Hermione laughed. “I think you are, too.” She turned a bright shade of red.

  


“You're blushing!”

  


“Yes, that sometimes happens.”

  


Ron stood up. “Seriously. Bed. Now.” Before Hermione could protest about how they hadn't finished their dinner, Ron took hold of her arm and Side-Along Apparated to their bedroom upstairs, leaving all thoughts of new jobs and investigations behind them.

  


XXXXXXX

  


**To Be Continued . . .**

  


XXXXXXX


	3. Ordinary Beige

  
  


XXXXXXX

  


**Chapter Three: Ordinary Beige**

  


XXXXXXX

  


_May 2023_

  


XXXXXXX

  


The school term was coming to a close. The students could feel it in the air: the anticipation of summer holidays, vacations, and sleeping-in. Rose's mother had written both her and Hugo several times over the last week or so, planning out a beach vacation with their Muggle relatives. There was a lot to daydream about where beaches were concerned; loads of school-aged boys running around in the sand, tossing around balls and flying kites in the summer breezes.

  


Boys weren't the only thing Rose was going to be interested in over the summer. She wanted to visit George often and give him all her ideas for new jokes and new promotions, including several drawings that she couldn't wait to show him. With any luck, he'd let her work for him, earn a bit of spending money for the next year's Hogsmeade visits. This summer was going to be memorable, Rose was sure of it.

  


Hugo, of course, would spend his time doing his essays and homework, reading up on everything he'd need to know for his O.W.L. year, and generally making life boring. That was fine by Rose; she didn't want her little brother tagging along for any adventures she might have. Something told her that she and her father would get into some mischief this year; they usually did. One summer they went to pick out new robes for Rose in Diagon Alley, but had ended up in Muggle London, watching several men play a sport called “rugby” and marveling at a game that could be so exciting and so violent, yet have nothing to do with magic or broomsticks.

  


The last couple weeks of school had dragged on and Rose was certain that the last few would meander on by just as slowly. She had been spending loads of time in the library, avoiding Gerry who insisted on still trying to help her with her homework. Luckily, the library provided her with the excuse of not being able to talk to him. Poor Gerry, he simply did not know when to stop trying.

  


Rose didn't have a problem with any professor, other than Grimstone. It was very apparent she had it out for Rose. She didn't know what reason anyone would have for disliking her. She knew the family stories of how her Uncle Harry's Potions professor hated him, but that was because he hated Harry's father. Professor Grimstone didn't know Rose's parents – in fact, Grimstone wasn't even from Great Britain at all and never attended Hogwarts as a student.

  


Hugo was a favorite of Grimstone's. He did extra credit homework and generally knew the answers to all of the questions she asked. Unfortunately, he was not as able as Rose was when it came to the practical magic, transfiguring objects, but he certainly knew the _theory_ behind it all. Rose and Hugo were so different, it was hard to imagine they were born of the same parents.

  


All Rose knew was that she had to suffer through the final bit of school and have free time to lounge about, sleep late, and have fun.

  


XXXXXXX

It was a Friday. Rose walked out of her Charms class with Albus and another Gryffindor in their year, Audrey Battersby. There were only three girls in the sixth-year Gryffindor girls' dormitory: Rose, Audrey, and another girl named Olivia. Rose and Audrey were friendly and sat together in the Great Hall, sometimes sharing gossip they'd heard about the boys they thought were cute. Olivia kept to herself and usually didn't join in the conversation, which made the girls' dormitory very quiet and boring at times.

  


“I don't understand why we're relearning Cheerfulness Charms. I thought we already knew how to make someone Cheerful,” complained Albus.

  


“I think it's just review,” replied Audrey, “to make sure we still remember how to do everything.”

“Think Grimstone will have us do review as well?” pondered Rose hopefully. “I could really use a break from trying to learn new stuff. The closer summer gets, the harder it is to get my brain to work properly.”

  


“Grimstone _never_ reviews,” said Audrey. “I am so grateful I didn't sign up for her N.E.W.T.-level class!”

  


“I don't really mind Grimstone,” said Albus, “but I don't like how she always picks on you.” He looked knowingly at Rose.

  


“She's an old hag. I don't know why she doesn't like me. There are plenty of other students who don't do their homework.”

  


“How'd you get into N.E.W.T. Transfiguration anyway?” asked Audrey.

  


They rounded a corner, walking towards the Transfiguration classroom. Rose held onto her books more tightly as they wove their way in between a gaggle of first-years running to their next classes.

  


“I got an O on my Transfiguration O.W.L. She couldn't really tell me 'no.' Besides, Transfiguration is my best subject. I'm really good at it. The practical part, anyway.”

  


“So why not just do the homework and keep Grimstone off your back? It seems like the most obvious solution, really.”

  


“Look, homework is boring. I have better things to do – like play Quidditch or fantasize about summer holiday. Besides, even when I do essays all on my own without any help, Grimstone still thinks I've cheated. It's rather useless, honestly. I'll leave homework to the pros, like Albus and Hugo.”

  


Audrey scrunched-up her nose. “Your little brother is such a know-it-all. He's rather nettlesome, isn't it?”

  


Stopping in front of Grimstone's classroom, Rose shifted her grip on her books and looked at Audrey. 

  


“He's a complete know-it-all,” she said, “and absolutely everything like my mother. Can you believe my mother was ever like that? Of course, she's bossy now, really, but Dad says Hugo is _exactly_ like her. Can you imagine? My father marrying someone who is just like Hugo? Ugh! I'd sooner die.”

  


Audrey giggled. “Me too! Well, have fun in Transfiguration, guys. I'm off to a double free period. Life is glorious.” She gave a small wave and walked down the corridor, back towards Gryffindor Tower.

  


Albus sighed. “Ready?

  


“Sure,” said Rose and followed Albus into the classroom. They took seats in the middle of the room and Rose took out the homework that had been set earlier in the week. This was another essay she had done all on her own, without any help. While she thought it was rather good, she was convinced she'd get an A at best. She was determined not to let it bother her; she'd gone this long without doing her homework and she could hardly expect to get perfect marks her first few tries.

  


“Good afternoon, class,” said Professor Grimstone, walking up the center aisle between the desks and towards the front of the classroom. “I expect you all have completed your homework?” She waved her wand and parchment from every desk flew through the air and landed in two neat piles on her desk. “Today I want to talk about human Transfiguration. I know many of you would like to become registered Animagi one day and you need proper instruction on how to do so before you ever try it on your own. It can be very dangerous if no one else is around. You could become stuck as a cat or a dog – or even worse, a cockroach or something unsightly. Then, how would you communicate to anyone who you really are?”

  


Rose took in a deep breath and quietly cleared her throat. She slouched a bit more in her chair and tucked her hair behind her ear. Someone she knew Grimstone would call on her first and this was not something she wanted to try in front of the whole class.

  


“Miss Weasley.”

  


Damn. Rose _knew_ it.

  


“Please stand and come to the front of the class.”

Rose stood. She walked slowly up the aisle, feeling her skin heat up in anger. Normally she could Transfiguration anything she wanted, but turning _herself_ into something was just not on the list of things she thought she could accomplish on the first try.

  


“What kind of animal do you think you might become?”

  


“Er . . . I've not any idea.”

  


“Not a one?”

  


“A rabbit?” Rose shrugged.

  


Grimstone chortled. “A rabbit. A fine animal indeed. I'm sure your parents would find a rabbit to be a very fine choice, something to be proud of.”

  


Rose quickly detected the sarcasm. “I'm sure my parents would be proud of any animal I turned into. Neither of them are an Animagus.”

  


“No? No one in your family is?”

  


Rose looked back at Albus. “Well, my cousin's grandfather was a stag.”

  


“A stag. Fascinating!” Grimstone looked at Albus. “Was he really?”

  


“Yes, ma'am.”

  


“Perhaps I should have you up here instead. I'm sure your Animagus side would be more intriguing than a rabbit.”

  


Rose almost laughed when she saw the look on Albus' face. He looked absolutely petrified. The whole thing was ridiculous and, in Rose's opinion, a ploy to humiliate her students. No way could any sixth-year become an Animagus on the first try. Even James Potter had to try for months before he was successful.

  


“I like rabbits,” said Gerry Bonaccord from the front of the classroom. “If Rose turned into a rabbit, I'd be really impressed.”

  


A sudden wave of admiration for Gerry filled Rose. She smiled at him.

  


“All right, then. Rose, you did the assignment, did you not?”

  


Rose nodded.

  


“Then you know the proper steps in becoming an Animagus. Proceed.”

  


This was _absurd_. Rose closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to remember all the techniques she read about the night before in her textbook. She felt her fingers and toes tremble. It felt as though her blood had begun to run boiling hot and the veins in her hands and arms throbbed in pain. This was not right. Suddenly she fell right over! Landing right on her hipbone, she cried out, “ _Ouch!_ ”

  


“Tsk, Miss Weasley.”

  


Rose climbed clumsily to her feet, rubbing her hip.

  


“I've seen better first tries. Tell me, do you do this well in all your classes?”

  


“Better,” mumbled Rose. 

  


“I wonder if your parents realize just how lazy you are. We shall see, shan't we? I owled them this morning after breakfast, asking them if they knew why their daughter never does her homework and always gets help on her essays.”

  


“I did the homework! And I didn't get help on the last essay, either.”

  


Grimstone smiled. “Okay, dear. You can sit down now.”

  


Rose stared at Grimstone. This reminded her of Uncle Harry's stories about how his Potions professor treated him. It was unnecessary and out of line. Rose wondered how Grimstone could even stay employed, treating her students in such a manner!

  


Walking back to her desk, Rose hesitated for a moment. She stared at her chair and in a split second, changed her mind. Instead of sitting, she took her books and walked to the back of the classroom and straight out the door. 

  


It felt liberating, frightening, and wonderful, all at the same time.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Astoria used her wand to light the candles on the banquet table in their dining room, which was set for twelve. Some of Draco's colleagues were due at any moment, as were some of his associates. The dinner parties weren't rare, but Astoria usually didn't attend them. She knew how to be sociable and was certainly a gracious hostess, but she did not like the parties Draco held. If a discussion about purebloods and the Old Ways didn't break out, then the topic would turn to business practices, many of which Astoria suspected to be illegal – even though Draco assured her they were not.

  


Normally, when there was a business party, Astoria took Scorpius to see her grandparents in France. This time, Draco asked her to stay, wanted her to be there for him. She complied and ended up preparing most of the food and setting the table.

  


The food was in the kitchen, under a heating charm so it wouldn't grow cold. Now, the candles were lit and every place-setting perfect. A loud knock echoed throughout the house; the first guest had just arrived.

  


“Astoria?” Draco called, entering the dining room. He wore dark green dress robes and held his head high. Astoria smiled at him, thinking him the most distinguished-looking wizard she had ever seen.

  


“I'm here.”

  


“I think that's the Bathursts.”

  


“I'll go get the door.” Astoria went towards the doorway.

  


“Let one of the house elves do it.”

  


“Next time. I'm going to let them finish cleaning the kitchen first.”

  


Draco took hold of Astoria's arm and turned her around. “Thank you for being here.” He kissed her mouth.

  


“Anything for you,” Astoria breathed. She looked up into Draco's eyes. He had begun getting lines around his eyes, but otherwise his face was still very young. His gray eyes held love in them, a love that Astoria could still see after all these years. Seeing those eyes made dealing with Draco's business dinners completely worth it.

  


Astoria walked slowly to the door, the hem of her burgundy dress robes purposefully hitting the floor as she stepped. Just as Draco predicted, Francesca and Herbert Bathurst stood at the door.

  


“You're answering your own door?” Francesca asked. “What are your house elves doing?”

  


Astoria moved out of the doorway to allow her guests to come into her house. “They are finishing up in the kitchen.” She shut the door behind the Bathursts. “Draco is in the parlor, Herbert, if you wish to join him. I know he has some brandy and whiskey, if you'd like a drink before dinner.”

  


Herbert nodded. “Yes, thank you. I think I shall. Take care of my wife for me. Oh – don't worry about showing me to the parlor, I know where it is.”

  


“All right, then.” Astoria turned to Francesca. “Follow me. I think we can sit in the library. It's very quiet in there.”

  


“Oh, I've never seen your library before.”

  


“It's small, but full of books. I love it. Reading has helped fill in the time now that Scorpius is in school.” Astoria led Francesca down the corridor and towards the library. “Please, come in.”

  


“It's very quaint.”

  


“I quite like it,” replied Astoria. She sat on the leather sofa, crossing her legs at the ankle. She held her hand out, offering the seat next to her to Francesca.

  


“Thank you.” Francesca sat. “The school term is almost over, isn’t it? Scorpius will be home soon. What year is he again?”

  


“Sixth.”

  


“Almost of age, almost a man. Does he plan on going into business with his father?”

  


Astoria shook her head. “He has many aspirations. He’s spoken of working for the Ministry, but I’m not sure which department. He’s also fond of unknown magic, prophecies and the like.”

  


“Interesting. Try to steer him clear of business with his father, if you would. Scorpius is going to be a fine wizard one day.”

“Steer him clear of Draco?” Astoria’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Whatever for?’

  


“I’m worried for your family.” Francesca leaned closer. “I've seen some of the business that my husband has got himself into lately. I'm not entirely sure it isn't illegal. Your family is already under tight watch from the Ministry as it is.”

  


“Why are you telling me this?”

  


“I am warning you because I like you.”

  


“Oh, Francesca, let's be realistic. You don't like me at all. In fact, I think you find me rather annoying and inferior.”

  


Francesca took in a deep breath. “Perhaps you are right. However, my husband and some of these other so-called business partners of his know they're doing illegal business and they have not been honest with Draco. There are a few others they are keeping secrets from.”

  


“What are they involved in? What's going on?”

  


“I can't give you details. I don't want to be a snitch. Tell your husband to be careful and make sure he never finds out about this little chat we're having.”

  


“Of course,” replied Astoria. 

  


“If Herbert finds out I’ve spoken with you, I don’t think he’d hesitate to use the Killing Curse on me.”

  


Astoria was muted with shock.

  


“He’s involved with some dangerous people - Muggle and wizard alike.”

  


“ _Muggles_?”

  


“Why, yes, dear,” said Francesca with a nod. “It’s not unheard of, you know, doing business with Muggles. However, it’s a nasty business. There might be two or three missing persons wrapped up in this. I don’t know all the details. Herbert thinks I’m going a bit deaf in my left ear, but my hearing is pristine and I hear _everything_ that goes on in my house.”

  


Astoria shook her head. “I can hardly comprehend this.”

  


“Oh, you’ll be all right, love. I daresay we both will if we just keep our mouths shut. However, Draco attracts a certain attention from the Ministry, so please warn him so that nothing happens to him - or you.”

  


Astoria felt a bit faint. “I think I need a drink.” She stood.

  


“Yes, dear. Bring me a small brandy, will you?”

  


Astoria nodded. “There’s an extra bottle in the kitchen.“ She quickly escaped the library and walked slowly down the corridor. This was completely insane, wasn't it? Draco had done business with the same men and women for decades now. She couldn't understand why now they were doing things illegally. Fear and worry filled her. The last thing they needed was another investigation from the Ministry. 

  


Regaining her bearings, Astoria went into the kitchen. Her mind was no longer on the dinner party, but on the words Francesca had spoken to her. She hadn't felt this frightened in a long time and it was unnerving to feel this way again. She didn't know when or how, but she knew she must talk to Draco and stop him before they both got in serious trouble.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Rose hit the Bludger with her bat as hard as she could. The practice Bludgers were the best; they were charmed to keep coming back towards the players. She loved Quidditch. She loved the fast pace, the cheering crowd, the wind in her face, and being a hundred feet off the ground on a broomstick. She sweat; she swore; she got angry; she got exhilarated. There was nothing better in the world.

  


With a swoop, Rose dove and swung at the Bludger as it circled back around her. Suddenly, she realized she was not alone.

  


“What are you doing here?” asked Rose.

  


“Watch out!”

  


Rose turned quickly and dodged the on-coming Bludger. “ _Merlin_ , what's wrong with you? You're distracting me!” The Bludger circled again and Rose hit it with her bat, harder than she'd ever hit before. The bat split and splintered and the Bludger flew off between the clouds. Rose waited, suspended in the air, for the ball to come back.

  


“I didn't know you could hit like that.”

  


“What are you doing here, Scorpius?” cried Rose, turning her broom around to face him.

  


“I came here to practice on the pitch – it wasn't booked, but you were already out here.”

  


“Maybe I wanted privacy! Ever thought of that? You interrupted my practice!”

  


“You interrupted my plans by being here when I showed up!”

  


Rose felt infuriated, the heat rising up her body. “The season is over! Why d'you need to practice anyway?”

  


“Flying is good therapy. It helps to get all my aggression out.”

  


“Right, like you have just so many problems,” said Rose nastily.

  


Scorpius's eyes narrowed. He took in a deep breath and his gaze moved to the sky. “I think it's gone for good. You knocked the charm out of it.”

  


“Oh, for heaven's sake. I did not.” Rose turned on her broom again in the direction she'd hit the Bludger. “Only the pros can literally knock the spells out of practice balls.”

  


“It's not coming back.”

  


“Damn it. Yes, it is. I'll wait for it.”

  


“You're crazy.”

  


Rose shrugged. She began a slow descent, gliding down to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Scorpius following her. Her feet hit the dirt with a soft _pat_. She breathed in deeply and held it in for several moments. 

  


“Are you all right?”

  


“No.” Rose looked at Scorpius. His hair was a bit disheveled and he wore loose-fitting track pants, a t-shirt, and trainers. He was every bit the image of a seventeen-year-old Muggle. Rose was surprised he didn't appear more wizard-like, but she couldn't honestly remember if she'd ever seen him out of the Hogwarts school uniform.

  


She probably looked like a mess. She'd pulled her dark red hair back into a thick ponytail and before grabbing her broom and running to the pitch, had thrown on some random clothes; she wasn't sure her shirt and trousers even matched. There wasn't any use putting on airs in front of Scorpius, since she didn't care what he thought of her. So she sat down in the dirt and grass and flopped backwards.

  


Scorpius stood above her, looking down. “Would you tell me what's wrong if I asked?”

  


“Doubtful.”

  


“What if I guessed?”

  


“If you guessed, I'd tell you anything you wanted to know.”

  


“All right, then.” Scorpius sat down next to her on the ground, crossing his legs in front of him at the ankle and leaning back on his elbows. “Let me think. Well, it's certainly not pressure from exams. You'd never be upset over tests.”

  


“No.”

  


“Your little brother is a bit of a snot, isn't he? I overheard him today in the Great Hall going on about how disgraceful some kids in his year were by sneaking out to the kitchens at night to nick food.”

  


“He's a total snot.”

  


“What's his name? I don't know if I've ever actually heard it.”

  


Rose shook her head. “I'm not telling you anything unless you guess.”

  


“Of course, I'm sorry. Let's see. I don't think your brother really upsets you much, however, I do think he may have something to do with it. I would say that Grimstone hacked you off in class again today, but that's such normalcy nowadays, isn't it? Have you had your fill of Transfiguration?”

  


“Yes, but I wasn't thinking of Grimstone when I came out here. Well, perhaps a little. . . .”

  


“I think Grimstone started it when she asked you if your family thought you were lazy.”

  


“My parents are very proud of me,” replied Rose. “No one thinks I'm lazy.”

  


“I'm sure they are very proud of you, but if your family is anything like my family, then you struggle against your name.”

  


Rose quickly sat up. “What?”

  


“It's true, isn't it?”

  


She blinked. “What do you mean?”

  


“You're a Weasley and you are supposed to be amazing, isn't that what Grimstone was hinting? I'm sure it gets old after a while, feeling as though no one thinks you're as good as your family.”

  


“I – I – wow. Yes.”

  


“Did I guess correctly?”

  


“No one ever thinks about that,” said Rose. “No one ever thinks about what it's like growing up as a Weasley, the daughter of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, niece of Harry Potter. And you know what is absurd? My Uncle Harry is more famous than my parents, but his kids never feel this way. I mean, I'm excellent friends with Albus and he doesn't ever feel like he has to live up to the Potter name.” Rose shook her head. “It makes me feel so alone.”

  


“Albus wants to embrace being a Potter. You don't want to be known for your parents; you want to be known for being Rose.”

  


“Yes. How d'you know . . . ?”

  


“Because I am a Malfoy,” replied Scorpius. “My grandparents were Death Eaters. My father was suspected of being one. The Ministry audits his business several times a year to ensure that he is not doing business with old Death Eaters or doing anything else illegal. No one trusts him and on one trusts me. Why do you think I study so much and try to be perfect with my studies? If I become Head Boy and get O's on all my N.E.W.T.s then the Ministry will take me more seriously. I want a career where people know me as Scorpius Malfoy, period. Not Scorpius Malfoy, the son of Draco Malfoy, ex-Death Eater.”

  


“I've never thought about your father,” said Rose. “I knew you were a Malfoy, of course, and that our parents hate each other, but I never put that much thought into it.”

  


“You wouldn't. You're not a Malfoy. Just like none of your friends understand how it's like to be a Weasley. They must think it's grand.”

  


Rose sniggered. “Of course they do. My family is full of amazing people. My Uncle Bill isn't really famous, but he was a curse-breaker for a while. My Uncle Charlie works with dragons and discovered another use for dragon's blood, as well as a way to communicate with them. Now he has two domestic dragons. They're still dangerous – breathing fire and all – but they're calm and they trust him. It's amazing.”

  


“I know, I read all about him in the _Daily Prophet_. Front page news.” Rose felt Scorpius look at her more closely. “What about the rest of your family?”

  


“George runs the joke shop so everyone knows about him. They all think I'm lucky because I get free pranks and wheezes. Sometimes he takes my drawings and makes advertisements out of them. It's wonderful. He takes me pretty seriously, but he's a genius, really. Some of his merchandise is _very_ advanced magic and it's hard to live up to that.

  


“Of course, my aunt now writes for the newspaper and anyone who keeps up with the European teams reads her by-line. Plus, she played _professional_ Quidditch. I only dream of doing that.”

  


“The way you hit that Bludger tonight, I wouldn't rule out going pro.”

  


Rose shrugged.

  


“What about your parents?” Scorpius pressed on.

  


“Don't you know about them? They were a whole chapter in our History of Magic book in fifth year.”

  


“That was wholly about Voldemort, wasn't it? Not about them personally. I know there are probably biographies about them lying about in bookshops, but that hardly interests me. Those books are usally full of such bollocks. I'd rather hear about them from you.”

  


Rose was surprised, but didn't seem to mind telling Scorpius about her family, so she continued. “Well . . . my dad was an Auror, famous for catching Death Eaters after Voldemort’s fall. Then he went to help George run the joke shop. He's still famous for all that stuff with the Horcrux. There's seven books written just about him and over twenty about him, my mum, and Uncle Harry specifically. He's on a Chocolate Frog card. People recognize him every time we go to Diagon Alley, though they usually recognize him more quickly if he's with my mum or Harry, but _every_ time, someone comes up to him and introduces themselves.”

  


Rose paused and looked at Scorpius. His eyes were on her and he appeared to be paying close attention to everything she was saying.

  


“My mum was so clever, the cleverest witch of her age. She freed house-elves and now is working to overturn or rewrite every law that discriminates against Muggle-borns or somehow favors purebloods. She's amazing. She's so passionate about everything she does. I know she wants me to be more like my brother. Hugo studies and follows the rules and never gets House points taken away, unlike me. But my mum was like that in school, too. She was a prefect and perfect and just brilliant. Everyone expects me to be just like her.”

  


“Was your father like that, too?”

  


“What? Perfect? He was a prefect, but he liked to break the rules. He didn't really do his homework and he went on loads of adventures.”

  


“It sounds as though your mother just wants you to be more like her, not more like your brother. And why should people expect you to be like her? I bet you're more like your father.”

  


Rose nodded. “I am my father's daughter, for sure. We are very close. But that doesn't mean I want everyone to call me Rose, daughter of Ronald Weasley.”

  


“So you're trying to run away from your name, as much as I want to run away from mine.”

  


Rose shook her head. “No, no, I don't want to run away from it. I want people to separate me from my family. I'm a person. A family is group of individuals, linked by blood, but still individuals. No one treats me like I'm my own person. It really rather sucks.”

  


“I understand, Rose.”

  


“And when my classmates think I get an easier time in school because of my parents or assume I get biased treatment, it makes me barmy!”

  


“I can tell. So that's why you were out here tonight, because you're tired of people expecting you to be so different just because you're a Weasley.”

  


“Not just different . . . Our Charms professor thinks because Bill was brilliant at Charms that I will be too. And the same with Care of Magical Creatures. Charlie was gifted and obviously, I am watched more closely because I could have that same gift. The war made my family famous and I'd rather be ordinary.”

  


“I'm thinking that nothing about you is ordinary,” said Scorpius with a bit of a laugh. “Ordinary reminds me of beige, a color you want to put on your walls at home so everything blends in. Your hair is red and always crazy-looking and right now your clothes . . . well, they don't match. Not to mention you beat the spell right out of that practice Bludger. So no, I wouldn't call you ordinary.”

  


“Scorpius, why are _you_ out here? What aggression did you need to get out?”

  


“I was tired of studying, mostly. Ada likes to have study dates, but I've been avoiding her the last couple days.”

  


“How come? That's terrible.”

  


“We always end up helping her study for Charms, because that's her worst class, and we never work on my Transfiguration, which is the class I have the most difficulty in. I need to study for myself, you know. I'll never become Head Boy if I keep helping Ada with her homework.”

  


“Do you even _want_ to help her?” 

  


“Not when it conflicts with the things I need to do for myself.”

  


“You're kind of an arsehole, aren't you? I mean, sometimes, right?”

  


Scorpius shrugged. “I take care of myself first. If you think that's being an arsehole, that's fine, but in ten years, I probably wouldn't recognize Ada's face if she walked towards me down the street. I'm not wasting time or energy on a relationship that won't last.”

  


“You're a horrible romantic.”

  


“I'm not romantic at all.”

  


“Good. Girls hate romance. Especially their favorite flowers or dinners for two in the moonlight. _Hate_ that kind of stuff. Thank Merlin I don't have a stupid boyfriend to spoil me like that.”

  


“Romance is fake. If I care about you, I'd rather do something practical. Like, do your chores.”

  


“That's terrible.”

  


Scorpius shook his head. “No, it's not. If I gave you a bunch of tulips, you'd be very uncomfortable and wouldn't know what to say, so don't pretend you like the idea of getting loads of romantic gifts from a bloke.”

  


“I don't like tulips.”

  


“Then insert whatever flowers you do like,” replied Scorpius, rolling his eyes.

“Roses.”

  


“Roses for Rose.”

  


Rose shrugged. “Whatever.” Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, she looked away from Scorpius and towards the sky. It was black and the moon shone brightly now. “I don't think it's coming back.”

  


“Neither do I.”

  


“Well, then . . . I'm going back in. Have a nice fly.” Rose stood and picked up her broom. She hesitated a moment before starting back towards the castle. When she turned her head around, just to glance at Scorpius, he was up in the sky, flying circles around the pitch. Her heart lodged in her throat for just a moment when she thought he caught her looking at him, but she realized later, his concentration was on flying and not on her at all.

  


XXXXXXX

  


**To Be Continued . . .**

  


XXXXXXX

  



	4. Green Sealed Letters

XXXXXXX

  


**Chapter Four: Green Sealed Letters**

  


XXXXXXX

  


_Summer 2023_

  


XXXXXXX

  


The end of the year exams passed quickly by. Rose knew she got top marks in Muggle Studies and Defense Against the Dark Arts and even though Professor Grimstone gave her nothing but grief, Rose knew that none of the other students had done half as well as her on their practical Transfiguration exam. It felt good to be finished with another year and heading home.

  


Rose ate her breakfast slowly, drinking the coffee that always appeared on the table but none of the other Gryffindors drank. 

  


“Are you excited to go home?” Roxanne asked from behind Rose, who turned and smiled up at her cousin.

  


“Yes! I'm excited to see your dad.”

  


“He sent me an owl yesterday, didn't I tell you? He wants to see your new sketches and ideas.”

  


“Brilliant.”

  


“Yeah. Listen, I wanted to stop by because Michael Cross asked if we could share a compartment on the train. I know _we_ usually sit together with Albus and everyone, but . . .”

  


“No, go sit with Michael!” exclaimed Rose. “You've fancied him for _ages_. I can sit with Albus or Audrey, but you had better tell me all about the ride at dinner.”

  


“Absolutely.” Roxanne gave Rose a quick hug and dashed off to the Hufflepuff table.

  


Rose turned back to her porridge. After every train ride home, the Weasleys and Potters held a Welcome Home feast. They usually ate dinner outside at the Burrow, joining several tables together. Rose's grandmother usually prepared the meal while the kids retold stories from the school year. Normally everyone came, including Charlie, who wasn't married nor had any children. It was a big affair, though Rose didn't know if Victoire, Dominique, and Louis would be there this year, as they had already left school. Teddy always came, even if Victoire didn't. It would be nice to see James again and her uncle Harry and aunt Ginny. And of course her grandmother, who always doted on her.

  


Albus came into the Great Hall, looking tired, and sat across from Rose. He yawned and stretched. “Seen Hugo this morning?”

  


“No. Why?”

  


Albus yawned again. “Saw him talking to Maisy.”

  


“ _Really_? That's fabulous! He finally got the courage to talk to her?”

  


“Well, from the looks of it, I'd say that _she_ talked to _him_ , while he stuttered about and turned red.” Albus shoved a whole piece of toast in his mouth. “Effited few go 'ome?”

  


Rose blinked. “Excuse me?”

  


Albus swallowed and cleared his throat. “Excited to go home?”

  


“Oh, yes, I am. I'm really excited to see Uncle George, actually. . . .”

  


“More joke ideas?”

  


“A few,” Rose admitted. “I'll be glad to see my dad, too.”

  


“Not your mum?”

  


Rose shrugged.

  


“Aw, I love your mum! She knows everything – and I mean _everything_. She's fascinating.”

  


“Yeah, she's very clever.” Rose ate another spoonful of breakfast and stood. “I'll see you on the train, Albus.”

  


Albus looked confused as Rose walked away from the Gryffindor table. Rose was looking forward to seeing her mum, but she wasn't looking forward to the questions about her future or why she didn't get higher marks in school. The problem was that Rose was very, very clever herself. If she hadn't been clever, her mother wouldn't have expected so much from her – Rose was sure of that. 

  


XXXXXXX

  


Rose levitated her trunk and put it in the overhead space above the seats. She Summoned a bag from inside it and sat down next to the window. The compartment was empty, but she had been one of the last ones out of the castle and hadn't made an effort to find any of her friends. Roxanne was sitting with Michael, and Albus would be doing patrols with Olivia right about now. Rose wasn't feeling her normal self; conflicting feelings battled inside her. She wanted to go home, get away from homework and exams and (perhaps most importantly) Professor Grimstone. She wanted to share some new advertising ideas with George and she wanted to go on a beach holiday with her family. But she was also done with her sixth year, which meant that this summer would be a lot of pressure from family on figuring out what she wanted to do after Hogwarts. She was supposed to have a plan now so that when the next school year was complete, she'd be ready to start her career.

  


The problem was, Rose didn't really want to do anything. She didn't want to do any further schooling or training. Her fingers itched to draw and paint or something else. She wanted to be near the ocean, outside, playing Quidditch, whatever didn't require an office or a desk. No job she had read about in any of the career guide leaflets had ignited any passion in her. 

  


Inside her bag was a blank notebook and two sets of pencils, both magical and Muggle. The Muggle ones made all her pictures stationary. The magical ones made everything she drew come to life. She liked both ways of drawing. There was something magical in the stationary pictures, even if it wasn't the magic most witches and wizards were used to; it was a completely different kind of magic.

  


With a jerk and a blow of the whistle, the train began rolling away from Hogsmeade station. Rose crossed her legs Indian-style on the seat, her sketchbook resting on her thigh. _Tap, tap, tap –_ the eraser on the tip of the Muggle pencil hit the blank page as Rose struck it against her book. She began to draw two eyes when the compartment door opened.

  


“Oh – sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here.”

  


Rose looked up. Scorpius stood in the doorway, a book in his hand. Coincidence kept throwing them together.

  


“Were you looking for an empty compartment?”

  


Scorpius nodded. “I wanted to read and there was nowhere else I could be alone. Actually, I'm surprised you're in here alone.” He looked around as though someone might be hiding beneath an Invisibility Cloak. 

  


“Albus is doing patrols with my brother, but I'm sure he'll find me later. Roxanne is sharing a compartment with a guy she's fancied for ages, but I don't mind so much. It's nice to be alone sometimes. I get rather . . . melancholy on the rides home.”

  


“Why? You don't want to go home?”

  


Rose sighed. “I don't know. You can sit down, if you like. I was going to draw anyway, so I won't bother you if you wanted to read.”

  


“Thanks.” Scorpius sat down and opened his book. Rose glanced at the cover, but she couldn't quite make out the title. He looked down at her sketchbook, his eyebrows furrowing a bit. “Who are you drawing?”

  


“Er, my mum,” said Rose, looking at the eyes. 

  


“Really?”

  


“Yeah. As much as she drives me crazy, I love her. She means really well and she wants the best for me, _I know this_. She just . . . makes me barmy.”

  


Scorpius opened his book. “So do my parents,” he said, his eyes scanning the book, probably looking for where he left off. “That's what parents do.”

  


“So, where's Ada?” asked Rose, wondering why Scorpius wasn't sitting with his girlfriend.

  


“Er . . .”

  


“Did you get into a fight?”

  


“No, not exactly. We sort of broke up.”

  


“Sort of? How do you 'sort of' break up?”

  


“I broke up with her, actually,” replied Scorpius, looking up, “but I didn't want to hurt her feelings, so it took a bit longer than I would've liked. She just didn't really understand me.”

  


“What didn't she understand?” inquired Rose.

  


“She thought I spent more time on schoolwork than on her, but she didn't get the importance of N.E.W.T. exams and why I find them so important. She's a Fenwick, her parents are in the Ministry and her grandfather has an Order of Merlin, First Class. Even if she didn't get a single N.E.W.T., she'd still get a job at the Ministry. I didn't like her anyway.”

  


Rose covered up her laugh with a cough. “Ahem.” She cleared her throat. “If you didn't fancy her then why . . . ?”

  


“I fancied her at first.” Scorpius shrugged. “It doesn't really matter now.” When he looked down at his book again, Rose knew the conversation was abruptly over.

  


Rose continued drawing. It was crude, especially since the train vibrated and jostled the compartment as it rode down the tracks. The time sped by as quickly as the passing trees. A plump witch came by with the pastry cart and knocked on the door. She and Scorpius both declined, but a moment later, Albus found them, with his arms full of sweets.

  


“Want a Cauldron Cake?”

  


“No thanks,” Rose replied.

“I saw Audrey when I was doing patrols; she was looking for you. Why aren't you sitting with her?” Albus sat down with a glance at Scorpius. Before Rose could answer, Albus continued, “Roxanne magicked herself inside her compartment. Said she wouldn't come out, even for you.”

  


“You've any idea what happened?” asked Rose, suddenly very concerned. She put her pencils and book aside. “Which compartment is she in?”

  


“I'll show you.” With another glance at Scorpius, who hadn't looked up from his book, Albus stood and went out into the corridor. Rose slid the door closed behind her and waited for Albus to continue down the corridor. 

  


“What are you waiting for?”

  


Albus shrugged. “Nothin'. Just thought you'd like an excuse to get away from that Slytherin.”

  


“You are unbelievable,” snapped Rose.

  


“Why?”

  


“That _Slytherin_ is not bothering me.”

  


“Are you friends with him? Are you insane? His parents are Death Eaters.”

  


“No one has been a Death Eater for over twenty years! Who cares who his parents are? Who cares? Don't you get tired of people wanting to be friends with you because you're Harry Potter's son? That's why you're popular.”

  


“I'm only popular because of my dad? That's what you think?”

  


“Don't you remember when you were a first-year and everyone in our House wanted to talk to you about your mum and dad?”

  


“They wanted to talk to you, too!”

  


Rose shook her head. “My parents are mildly famous compared to _Harry Potter_.”

  


“Is that why you don't have any friends? Because you think everyone wants to know you just because of your family or because of me?”

  


“I don't need to be popular, unlike you. And yes, when I meet someone who doesn't care who I am or who I'm related to, I tend to like them. _That Slytherin_ doesn't give a shit if I'm related to Harry Potter and I don't give a shit if his parents were Death Eaters. It doesn't matter to either of us and I think it's bollocks to assume that just because he's in Slytherin that I wouldn't want to be in a compartment with him. I thought you knew better than that.”

  


“Rose--”

  


“I don't want to hear it,” interrupted Rose. 

  


Albus looked furious. His eyes were blazing and his nostrils flared. Rose knew she herself must look much the same, for her heart raced and the heat rose like a sweeping fire up the back of her neck. She had no idea why she'd gotten quite _this_ angry; she and Albus had never really fought before.

  


Turning around, Rose went back into her compartment. She sat down and picked up her sketchbook again. She felt Scorpius' questioning eyes on her, but he didn't ask and she didn't answer, so they rode the rest of the way in silence. When the train pulled into Kings Cross, Rose levitated her trunk down and finally looked at Scorpius.

  


“Have a good summer.”

“You, too.” He seemed to falter for a moment, as though he wanted to say something else. 

  


“Let me know if you become Head Boy.”

  


Scorpius nodded. “All right, I will.”

  


“Okay then. I'm sure I'll be getting an owl from you later this summer, then. Have a good holiday.” Rose smiled quickly before exiting the compartment and jumping down off the train. She looked around for her parents and spotted them quickly. Her father stood, his red hair not quite as bright as it used to be, next to her mother, whose hair was as mad as ever. Hastening her step, she walked over to them, throwing her arms around them both, being more glad to see them than she realized she would be.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Three weeks into the summer break, Rose left with her mother, father, and brother for the ocean. They stayed in a lovely house on the beach. The first night there, Rose sat on the beach, wearing her favorite blue jumper, while listening to the waves. The start of summer holiday wasn't particularly fun. She had attended the traditional Weasley family dinner and told her parents all the stories she'd left out of her letters. She got to show some of her new drawings and ideas to Uncle George. For the first time, she got to see Teddy and Victoire's newborn and meet Dominique's newest beau. Roxanne told her all about the train ride home and how Michael had kissed her cheek before they parted ways and had promised to write her over the summer.

  


But during all of this, Albus and she ignored one another. 

  


Sitting on the beach now, Rose was uncertain why she had gotten so upset with Albus. They were so lucky because they were family _and_ best friends. It was a rare combination, but she loved it. Even though she had a friend in Audrey, her fellow Gryffindor, and a few friends from Ravenclaw, no one compared to Albus or Roxanne. They'd grown up together, known one another since birth. No one else knew her better than Albus and Rox, not even her parents. Fighting with Albus had made Rose extra cross lately and more snappish with Hugo, even though he wasn't being any more annoying than usual.

  


Rose got up from the beach and walked up to the house. She kissed her mother and father goodnight and went upstairs to her bedroom. Everything in the room was white and blue and felt serene. Once she had changed into pajamas, Rose opened the shutters and breathed in the salty ocean-air. She let the waves against the rocks and sand lull her to sleep and she dreamed of water and sea stars and footprints in the wet sand.

  


Something nipping at her fingers woke her the next morning. She stirred and yawned, stretching her arms. She blinked against the bright white morning sun. Going to sleep with the sound of the waves was true magic. But that thing was still nipping her.

  


Rose looked down. A medium-sized brown owl with orange eyes sat on her bed. An envelope sat beside him. He seemed to be breathing a little hard, so Rose grabbed her wand from where she'd left it on the bedside table and conjured up a bowl full of water. The owl drank and drank.

  


“I'm sorry I don't have any owl treats. Do you want something to eat?”

  


The owl gave a soft hoot, which Rose took to be a yes. She petted his head, went downstairs to the kitchen and brought back a piece of bread. 

  


“I'm sorry I don't have more for you, but we'd planned to go shopping before breakfast. We aren't stocked up on food. This'll have to do.”

  


The owl didn't seem to mind and took a couple bites of bread before drinking again. Rose picked up the envelope and looked at the front.

  


_Rose Weasley_

_Somewhere in Britain_

  


She laughed a little. No wonder the owl was so tired; he had to search for her! Not recognizing the handwriting, Rose opened the envelope with caution. A small, single piece of parchment was inside with three words written in red ink.

  


_I'm Head Boy_.

  


Rose couldn't help but smile. It wasn't signed, but she knew immediately who it was from. Scorpius actually wrote her. It was her first owl of the summer holiday; none of her other friends were bored enough to write her yet, which was all right because she hadn't written them either. Head Boy! That was a really big deal for Scorpius. Rose actually felt kind of proud of him, which was an odd feeling because they weren't exactly friends. Still, she knew he had worked extremely hard the last six years of school, so he deserved it. 

  


“Can you take a letter back to Scorpius?” asked Rose.

  


The owl hooted again, but it sounded slightly strangled.

  


“You can rest here for as long as you want, don't worry.”

  


Rose searched through her bags for a quill, ink, and some parchment. Once she found it, she sat at the desk in her room, dipped her quill in ink and paused. What should she write back? _Congratulations_ , of course, but what else? She didn't want to write anything that would make him think she wanted a response, but she wanted to write something that invited a response, if he wanted to keep up a correspondence with her. After three drafts and over twenty minutes, Rose finally came up with a letter.

  


_Congratulations! You must be really happy._

  


It was short and simple, but didn't ask any questions – yet if Scorpius wanted to respond, it clearly left it opened so that he could. Rose laughed at herself. She was acting as though she fancied Scorpius, which she certainly did not! So then why did his three-word letter give her butterflies in her stomach? She rolled the parchment and tied it to the owl's leg.

  


“I'll be here for the next two weeks,” she said, “so if you have a reply, you'll find me here.”

  


The owl hooted once more, then covered his head with his wing and settled down to rest some more before the journey home. 

  


Rose took a quick shower and put on fresh clothes. Her parents were awake when she descended the stairs and found them in the kitchen, already dressed and drinking coffee. Her father had the _Daily Prophet_ open, his eyes scanning the headlines. Her mother looked thoughtful with a mug of coffee warming her hands.

  


“Good morning,” said Ron. “How'd you sleep?”

  


“Wonderfully. I wish we had an ocean in our backyard. What are we doing today?”

  


“Just relaxing,” Hermione answered. “We have to go to the store, but after that, we haven't any plans. This will be our last time to relax for a while. Your dad and I are both taking on new projects at work that are going to be rather intense.” She put her coffee cup down after taking a sip.

  


Ron reached and took hold of his wife's hand. “I'm going back to work for the Ministry. I'll be working with Harry again.”

  


“Well, that's wonderful, isn't it? You and Uncle Harry get along really well.”

Hermione smiled. “It's going to be an adjustment.”

  


“Why?” Rose was confused.

  


“Long hours,” said Ron. “When I worked for the Auror Department before, I'd work twenty hour days sometimes. It was awful.”

  


“Oh, you loved it.” Hermione looked from Ron to her daughter. “He loved it, don't let him fool you. He loved catching Dark wizards and bringing them to justice.”

  


“Sending them to Azkaban to rot, that's what I loved.”

  


Rose giggled. “What kind of job is it? Wait, there isn't another Death Eater uprising, is there?” she asked, her voice suddenly becoming very serious.

  


“No, of course not, don't worry.” Hermione put her cup back to her lips to drink but said nothing more.

  


“There's just some suspected Dark activity involving Muggles. Harry wanted me because I've more experience with Muggles than anyone else on his team. There's nothing you should worry about.”

  


Rose nodded, though not entirely convinced. “All right. I think I'll go to the beach. I don't mind what you buy at the store.”

  


“All right, my love,” said Hermione. She stood and kissed Rose on the cheek. “Why don't you come back at half ten for breakfast?”

  


“Sure thing, Mum.”

  


Rose left the house to walk on the beach. It was still too early for the beach to be very crowded. She let the sand sift between her toes and the waves wash across her feet. The water was cold but beautiful. The waves were music in the air. The peacefulness filled Rose and allowed her thoughts of school, her future, Albus, and Scorpius to run free.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Rose spent the next two days at the beach with her family. She and Hugo played volleyball with some Muggle teenagers and drank fresh pumpkin juice when they tired of playing. Everyone slept in and enjoyed late breakfasts with lots of coffee. For once, Rose and Hugo were getting along well, and her parents laughed along with them whenever the moment allowed for merriment. 

  


At the dinner table a couple nights later, an owl swooped in from the open window and tried to stop on the table, but ended up skidding across it, landing in Hugo's soup bowl.

  


“ _Merlin_!” he cried. He looked at the owl. “Who is this?”

  


Rose recognized the bird immediately. “Oh, crap!”

  


“Rose, your language!” admonished Hermione, but Rose wasn't listening.

  


“Sorry! I know that owl! He belongs to--” Rose faltered. She grabbed the rolled parchment from the owl's leg. “--er, Audrey.”

  


Ron waved flicked his wand and everything on the table returned to its original position. He continued eating, looking mildly amused. Hugo stared at Rose, but she didn't meet his eye. The only person she looked at was her mother, who looked skeptical.

  


“Don't you want to read your letter?”

  


“Yes, but it can wait 'til after dinner. . . .”

  


“Your plate is clean. Looks as though dinner is over for you.”

  


Rose grinned at her mum. “Thanks.” She took the letter and quietly left the table, the owl following her. She waited until she was in her room before undoing the tie and unrolling the letter. Perhaps it was because her parents would never approve of their friendship, but getting letters from Scorpius felt dangerous and exhilarating. She hoped the they kept coming. 

  


_Rose,_

_I don't know if I would say “happy” about being Head Boy, but I'm really pleased. My father said he didn't expect anything less from me, but my mother said she felt joyous – her words, not mine. I'm interested to find out who Head Girl is. The news seemed to put my father in a better mood for a couple days. He's been rather grumpy lately so being at home hasn't been completely enjoyable._

_-Scorpius_

  


Rose read the letter twice and took out her own parchment and quill to write her response. She wondered if it actually took Scorpius' owl a few days to fly to her, or if Scorpius hadn't written back immediately. After a few moment's deliberation, she decided she didn't really care either way.

  


_S -_

_I'm really glad for you about being Head Boy. I'm not Head Girl, as I'm sure you can guess, so there isn't any celebrating at my house this summer. Actually, we're not at my house at all. My mother found a house on the beach and we're spending a two-week holiday here – it's really lovely. My father took a new job at the Ministry, or rather he took his old job back, and my parents wanted to relax before he starts. Even though your father's been grumpy, I hope your summer holiday is still really good!_

_-R_

  


Rose rolled the letter, magicked it shut, and tied it to the owl's leg. This time, the owl didn't seem as tired and he took off immediately through the open window. Rose watched it fly over the beach until he was nothing but a dark speck against the blue sky then she flopped down on her bed and looked at the ceiling. Everything seemed so confusing; she was only seventeen and already her life felt in disarray. She just wanted to be Rose and be herself, but people seemed to expect more from her.

  


An enigma lay within her father. Even though Rose was most like him, she sometimes felt that he was disappointed she wasn't more like him – for almost everyone in her life wanted her to be _more_. 

  


Her mother expected her to do more in school, to be a better student, to do something great once she left Hogwarts. Her brother expected her to become more like him, attend class, and stop breaking rules. Albus expected her to be friends with people he approved of, their cousins, or other Gryffindors. Professor Grimstone expected her to be like her mother, her brother, and the rest of her family- something great. 

  


She knew that was the reason why she liked Scorpius so much, because she could actually be the Rose she wanted to really be around him.

  


Rose closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Maybe in another couple days she would have another letter. In the meantime, she planned on enjoying her family – something that didn't often happen.

  


XXXXXXX

  


The next letter came two days later, in an envelope stamped with a green seal, delivered by the same owl. Rose was lounging on the beach when he came. This time she was alone, sketching Quidditch player, while her family was still sleeping inside the house.

  


_Rose,_

_I know you're not Head Girl, but I'm still sure you did better on the Transfiguration exam than I did. For someone who doesn't do her homework, I've no idea how you manage to out-transfigure me._

_My summer has been fine so far. My father has felt some pressure lately from the Ministry, though he doesn't know why. I helped him audit his books last week and everything seems to be in perfect order. It was nice to do it, actually, but I think he only entrusted me with the task because of my Head Boy badge. He's still rather grumpy, but the Ministry is probably never going to leave him alone because of his past._

_I've been trying to convince my mum to take me to the new Quidditch shop in Switzerland, I'm sure you've heard of it. I don't know if I've convinced her yet, but I need new gloves. They have some that supposedly have grips on the fingertips to help you keep hold of the Quaffle. I know they've superb bats, too, for Beaters, so you might fancy a look at the shop if you get a chance this summer. It's located in_ _Wädenburg, near Zurich. I hope you're practicing this summer, because I've a feeling Slytherin is going to win the match against Gryffindor this year._

_Hopefully the beach is nice for you this summer. It explains why it's been taking my owl so long to get back from your house. His name is Malcolm. He likes apples._

_-Scorpius_

  


Rose Summoned an apple from inside the house and used her wand to cut it into small pieces for Malcolm the Owl. She used her Muggle pencil to pen her reply as she sat on the beach. 

  


_S -_

_I don't need to practice Quidditch. Slytherin is right pathetic at Quidditch, especially the Chasers who never get the Quaffle through the goals. My dad got me a new bat, actually. He always gets Hugo and me a homecoming gift when the school year is over. It's a really nice bat, but I do need new gloves. I know there's a new Slip-Resistance Charm on the gloves at Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley. Do you think the gloves in Wädenburg are better?_

_The last couple days, my brother has been reminding me about my homework, and reminding me that Grimstone is going to lose her head if I don't' do my summer essays. Personally, I find homework to be such a waste of time when I can enjoy myself on the beach, which is where I'm writing this letter from. It's really quite beautiful here. I would send you a photo, but I only have a Muggle camera and I don't know how much you would appreciate a stationary photograph._

_There are only a couple days left on the beach, so I plan on enjoying the time left. Once we get back home, I have a trip planned to Paris with my cousin Roxanne and her dad, my Uncle George. He is opening new premises in Paris and I've never been. I doubt I'll be able to convince my parents to take me to Switzerland as well, even if it's for Quidditch, though I'd love to see a new Quidditch shop._

_-R._

  


The rest of the day Rose spent on the beach. Her mother read a book on the beach while her brother worked on his Potions essay. Her father rested inside the house, having been burnt so badly by the sun the day before his skin was a brighter shade of red than his hair. Rose spent the last bit of the afternoon inside with him, playing wizard's chess. They prepared supper together and served it to Hermione and Hugo when they came inside from the beach.

  


Rose retired early and got in bed, ready to be lulled asleep by the waves. She picked up a book she had begun to read the night before and opened it, using her wand to light the page.

  


“Rose?” A soft knock came from the other side of her bedroom door.

  


“Come in.” Rose sat up in bed, creasing the page of her book to keep her place. She pushed her dark red hair away from her face.

  


Hermione entered, an envelope in her hand. “You got an owl.” She held out the letter. “May I sit?”

  


“Sure.”

  


“You've got yourself a lot of owls these days,” said Hermione as she sat on the edge of Rose's bed.

  


Rose shrugged. “Not so many.”

  


“One every couple days, I've noticed, and two today. I saw the owl from inside the house, after just waking up and realizing you weren't in the house. You haven't really talked about who you're writing to. Do you have a boyfriend?”

  


Rose's face grew warm; she felt certainly flushed. “No, I don't.”

  


“You're such a lovely, lovely girl. I don't want you to be embarrassed if you fancy someone. I was young once, even if that's hard to believe.”

  


“I know you were a kid once. I'm not embarrassed and I don't fancy anyone. I'd tell you if I did.”

  


Hermione smiled. “I wish we were closer, you and I. I love that you and your father have such a wonderful bond, but it makes me sad that we're not like that. Your father tells me all the time that I put too much pressure on you and compare you to Hugo. He reckons I don't understand what it's like to be you since I was an only child. I saw your grandmother do it once in a while with your uncles and your father. She compared them to one another sometimes and your dad grew up feeling as though he had to compete with his brothers. I never wanted to do that to you.”

  


“Mum . . .”

  


“So I just wanted to say that if I ever make you feel as though you're not a good enough student then I am very sorry. You do a lot of wonderful magic, I've seen it this summer. You passed your Apparition exam the first try and were the first to Apparate in your year. You are very clever and you are going to do so well in life.”

  


“Thank you,” whispered Rose, looking down at the letter in her hand. “I do sometimes feel as though I'm not good enough.”

  


“You're always good enough. I couldn't ask for a better daughter.”

  


A few tears burned Rose's eyes but she blinked them back. “Thank you.”

  


“I'm here if you ever want to talk about anything.”

  


Hermione made to get up, but Rose spoke, halting her.

  


“I don't know if I fancy anyone or not. I've been writing this boy in my year – he's not in my House or anything. We never really spoke except the last couple weeks of school and we had a lot in common. It's weird, I don't really know what to think of it right now. Maybe we'll just end up being good friends, like you and Uncle Harry.”

  


“Who is he?”

  


“Er . . .” Rose shook her head. “I don't really want to say. I'm not exactly sure you and Dad would approve.”

  


“Why not?”

  


Rose shrugged. “He's just a boy. . . . I don't think Dad is ready to admit I could fancy anyone.”

  


“Your father and I got together when we were just a year older than you, but he had a girlfriend in sixth-year. I think he would understand.”

  


“Do you _really_ , though? I don't know. I think he'd have a heart attack, Mum, I really do.”

  


Hermione laughed. “You are his little girl, so perhaps he would. I can keep a secret, you know, if you want me to.”

  


Rose shook her head. “Not today – our friendship isn't really anything. We're just pen-friends at the moment.”

  


“I understand.” Hermione stood and went to the door. “If you want to keep it a secret, though, tell your friend not to use his seal – someone might be able to figure out who's writing to you because of it. Good night, my love, I love you.”

  


Rose's jaw dropped as she watched her mum walk out the door and shut it behind her. Her eyes dropped to the letter in her hand. The wax seal was green, an _M_ clearly visible. But that could be anyone, couldn't it? One of her dormmates was named Olivia Morgans. The letter could have been from her. Or from Maisy, the girl Hugo fancied. 

  


Not wanting to think about that right now, Rose opened her letter.

  


_Rose,_

_What do you mean by “stationary photograph”? I don't understand._

_I personally like the shop in Switzerland, but I find it nice to get out of Britain every so often so that may be part of its charm._

_I finished all my essays the first two weeks I was home. Mostly so I didn't have to worry over them later on. 1_ _st_ _September is going to come more quickly than we think._

_Seventh year will be good. I look forward to the extra Hogsmeade visits, which we get as seventh-years. My parents are driving me a bit mad so it'll be nice to get back to school. Hopefully things will become calm again once I'm back at Hogwarts._

_Ada has written me a couple times, but I don't really know what to say to her in return. Some of my friends have sent me letters, but I find them boring compared to yours. Your letters aren't philosophical works of wonder, yet they entertain me and I look forward to them. Right now, everyone else bores me._

_I'm accompanying my father to the Ministry for a routine audit so I'll end my letter here._

_-Scorpius_

  


Rose was too tired to write her reply, but she reread the letter twice. Her lips stretched into a smile and she placed the letter inside her book, as a marker. With a whispered, “ _Nox!_ ” she darkened the room and fell asleep.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Across the country, Harry and Ginny were readying themselves for bed. Ginny plaited her long hair and climbed under the covers. Harry came over, having just finished brushing his teeth, and joined her.

  


“Lily finally stopped talking to that friend of hers.”

  


“Maisy,” offered Ginny, grinning. “She's just here for a weekend visit. They're best friends, you know. Besides, I heard them talking about Hugo. I think Maisy fancies him.”

  


Harry sighed. “They keep growing. I don't know why they do that.”

  


Ginny laughed and put her arms around her husband. She kissed his cheek. “Because thats what children do. You grew, in case you've forgot.”

  


“I've not forgot, but it was so long ago.”

  


“I remember when you were eleven. I fancied you even then, despite you never giving me a second glance.”

  


“Oh, I gave you second glances, all right. They might've come later, but I gave you glances. I could hardly keep my eyes off you. I can hardly keep my eyes off you now.” Harry tucked the stray bits of Ginny's hair behind her ear. “I love looking at you.”

  


“You haven't done much looking the past week or so. You've been so busy.”

  


“I know, believe me. I hate it.”

  


“Oh, stop, you love it, admit it.”

  


“I do love keeping busy, but I don't like being so busy I don't see you everyday.”

  


“What's going on at the Ministry that you've missed four dinners this week?”

  


“Muggles. There's a connection between these missing Muggles and our world. We've found two girls who have clearly been tortured and killed by the Killing Curse, yet I don't know who's done it. Our source inside the Muggle police tipped us off about the murders. I don't know why they were tortured or murdered, that's the difficult part of this whole thing. It's quite unbelievable, actually. One of the girls was found with part of a coin in her pocket.”

  


“A Galleon?” asked Ginny.

  


“No, something ancient, antique. It was definitely goblin-made, but from a thousand years ago, before our modern money.”

  


“Oh!” cried Ginny. “Is that why you're investigating Draco Malfoy? I heard he came into the Ministry today with his son. His books were checked?”

  


“He's got one of the most lucrative antiques businesses now that Borgin and Burkes is out of business. His books didn't show any Dark artifacts, which is good. He's apparently trying to stay out of trouble, but I don't know if the books we saw were the 'official' books, if you get what I'm saying.”

  


“I understand. Poor Draco, though, if he's innocent. He's always the suspect, isn't he?”

  


Harry shook his head. “Not always. I rarely think about him, honestly. We did check a couple other dealers first, but they were clean. Draco does such extensive business, though, that we are being more careful with him. I think he may value money over Dark objects.”

  


“Do you really think so?” Ginny sighed. “I hate to think that he would do anything to get sent to Azkaban, not when he has a family.”

  


“His father had a family and he got sent to Azkaban.”

  


“Exactly! So Draco should know what that feels like and not want his own son to go through that. Though, why they named their son 'Scorpius' I'll never understand. What a horrible name. He kind of looks like his father, doesn't he?”

  


Harry shrugged. “I suppose so. I'm glad Albus isn't friends with him.”

  


“Why? I thought you told him it didn't matter what House he was Sorted into and--”

  


“I'm glad for _my_ sake. Imagine if they were friends and if in their eyes, Scorpius' father was being investigated by his best mate's father.”

  


“I hadn't thought of that.”

  


“Word will get around Hogwarts soon enough if I can't officially prove Malfoy wasn't a part of this. I'll be glad for Monday to come, when Ron joins my team again. I have a feeling more bodies are going to show up and we'll have to deal with the Muggle police more closely.”

  


“You chose the right man for the job,” said Ginny. “My brother is a great Auror.”

  


“I know.”

  


“He's your brother now, too, though.”

  


Harry smiled. “I know,” he repeated.

  


“You're so lucky to have married me.”

  


Harry laughed. “I know!” He kissed Ginny. “Thanks for being so understanding this week. I know I haven't been able to pay much attention to you since I've been so busy working.”

  


“It's okay. I mind, but I understand.” She kissed him back. “You're making our world a safer place for wizards and Muggles alike. I think that's noble and if there's one thing about you, it's that you're always noble.”

  


“I love you, Gin.”

  


“I know. I love you, too.”

  


They fell asleep – Ginny thinking about trips to Diagon Alley for her kids' school books and Harry about wrapping up this case and lessening his workload. Neither of them had any idea how complicated this new case was about to get. For even though Albus and Scorpius weren't friends, Scorpius and _Rose_ were and Rose's father would be investigating Draco in a few days' time.

  


XXXXXXX

  


**To Be Continued . . .**

  


XXXXXXX


	5. Silver Coins

XXXXXXX

  


**Chapter Five: Silver Coins**

  


XXXXXXX

  


_September 2023_

  


XXXXXXX

  


The weather was warmer than usual for August. Rose walked down the street in Diagon Alley, wearing Muggle clothes like most of the other kids her age, the back of her shirt sticking to her skin. Diagon Alley was packed with people, mostly families buying school supplies for the upcoming year. Rose's mum had stayed behind with Hugo at Flourish and Blotts to pick up their schoolbooks while Rose and her father were on their way to Eeylops Owl Emporium to pick out an owl. Uncle George had paid her for a couple of drawings he wanted to put on some of his new gift boxes, which meant Rose had enough pocket money to buy herself an owl.

  


“I think I want a white one,” said Rose, “like Uncle Harry had when he was at Hogwarts.”

  


“Ah, Hedwig,” said Ron with a small nod. “She was a great owl.”

  


“I liked the pictures I saw of her. She was beautiful.”

  


“What about Pig? Didn't you like the pictures of him?”

  


Rose sniggered. “He was tiny. I want an owl, not a fat rat with wings.”

  


“Ho, ho,” laughed Ron. “Watch that attitude.”

  


“Sorry, Dad.” But Rose noticed her father was grinning. “Did you ever regret not going back for your seventh year of school?”

  


Ron stopped short of the Eeylops front doors. “I was with Harry, hunting Horcruxes and saving the world. I don't regret it.”

  


Rose didn't miss the lighthearted tone of her father's voice. He often made light of the harsher stories from his past. Rose knew what had happened, what her parents and Harry had done, but she always felt as though she knew pieces, not the whole picture. 

  


“Why do you always do that? Joke around about it?”

  


Ron shrugged. “You're so young, you don't need--”

  


“I'm seventeen. You were seventeen when you went traipsing off to save the--”

  


“It's a different time now--”

  


“You sound like Mum,” interrupted Rose.

  


Ron opened his mouth and shut it immediately. He wet his lips and clicked his tongue. “I don't regret anything about missing my seventh year. What I helped do was important, probably one of the most important things I will ever get the chance to do. If we hadn't missed our final year, then the chance for Hermione to have you wouldn't have existed, so no I don't regret it.”

  


“What about after the Horcruxes? Mum went back for her seventh year, but you didn't.”

  


“Harry and I immediately began working for the Auror department, catching Death Eaters who had escaped and trying to rid our world of them. We threw them into Azkaban. Your mum never would've done anything except finish her schooling. We were in different places.”

“You still managed to date, though.”

Ron laughed. “Of course. There were Quidditch matches and Hogsmeade visits. I saw her all the time. I came up to the school on weekends. We had plenty of time together.”

  


Rose noticed how the tips of her father's ears turned red. 

  


“Are you thinking of not going back to Hogwarts?”

  


“No, I'm going back . . . but Dad, I don't really want to. I've been thinking about it and I'm not sure what would be the point. Normally, I'd go back just so as to not have to deal with you or Mum” – Rose gave a short laugh – “but I've really liked this summer holiday. I don't care about N.E.W.T.s whatsoever, so I just – I mean, I don't know – what's the point?”

  


Ron blinked, as if confused. “Well, your mum reckons that you've really matured so that's why you've have a good time with us. You'll learn more magic in your seventh year and you'll be around your friends. Besides, if you don't go back, it'll break your mother's heart.”

  


Rose nodded. “You're right. I don't want to do that to Mum.”

  


“Yeah, please don't – I've got to live with her and I don't reckon that side of your mum would be any fun. I like Hermione happy and relaxed.”

  


“When is Mum _ever_ relaxed?” exclaimed Rose.

  


“Right . . . you have a point. . . .”

  


Rose and Ron laughed.

  


“Let's go find you an owl.”

  


XXXXXXX

  


Ron flipped through the large file. His eyes slid in and out of focus; there were too many pieces of parchment and he'd already read at least one-hundred pages.

  


“How're you doing?”

  


Ron looked up. Harry walked into the large office and sat behind the desk. Since taking over as Head of the Auror Department, many things had changed, mostly for the better. Divisions within the department were more organized and clear, and everything was done by the book, with rules and protocol. Some of that was Hermione's influence, but it made for a well-run, almost-perfect department.

  


Harry's office was practically littered with photographs of his family. Closest to his chair was a picture of Ginny from twenty years before. There were a couple of pictures of his kids as babies and a couple from their recent, teenage years, and of course, there was a picture of Teddy, Harry's godson. Ron was mildly surprised to see how different Harry's office was now from when they worked together years and years ago. Harry was more sentimental than Ron had figured, but then again, he had caught his best mate looking through an old photo album several times during their years at Hogwarts.

  


“I'm thinking about Vanishing this file completely so I don't have to read any more.”

  


“Won't matter,” said Harry. “All our files are charmed so that if they are destroyed, they will duplicate themselves.”

  


Ron groaned.

  


“I've read it beginning to end. It's a hard file to get through.”

  


“Well, that's because it doesn't start with what I thought was the first victim. According to this, the first victim was actually the sixty-fourth.”

  


Harry nodded. “Right. Marion Goldstein put those pieces together. When she first started in the department, she had to go through all the old files and update them, so when this case came about, she recognized the similarities. She's the best damned organizer I've ever seen, better than Hermione even. She's read through every file and piece of parchment in this office before filing it away. She documents everything. She has charmed quills in all the offices and conference rooms so when we are interviewing someone, they record it all down. It's fantastic. So you can thank her for that file you got there.”

  


Ron rubbed his eyes. “D'you ever get tired of catching Dark wizards?”

  


“No.”

  


“Ginny reckons you'll never be fully happy unless you're hunting the next You-Know-Who.”

  


“Does she now?” Harry looked mildly amused. “I don't know about the next Voldemort, but I do think it's important to keep our world safe. No one should have to die unnecessarily just because they're Muggle or Muggleborn.”

  


“You think all these people in this file” – Ron lifted the stack of parchment up – “are Muggles or Muggleborn?”

  


Harry nodded. “Yes.”

  


“How d'you reckon? With some of the victims, it doesn't say if they're Muggleborn, just that they're witches or wizards.”

  


Harry folded his hands together and placed them on top of his desk. “Do you know how many files just like that I have going on right now? Active cases?”

  


“One-hundred-seventy-two.”

  


“Nice guess.”

  


Ron shrugged. “Well, I didn't take Arithmancy but I'm still not bad with numbers.”

  


“Almost two-hundred. It's maddening. That file is the thickest, thank god, but for Merlin's sake, Ron, some of the others come close. Nothing is quite as Dark as what's in your hand, though. I really need someone to just take it over.”

  


“Right. Are none of your guys going to be hacked off that I'm taking this from them? Considering I haven't been active in a couple decades?”

  


“You're working for me on a consultation basis – at least, that's what I'm calling it.”

  


“Aren't there Aurors more qualified than me? Who've been doing it for longer?”

  


“Maybe, but I trust you. This needs to be delicate. I haven't had something like this come up since I've been in charge, nothing hitting this close to the Muggle world. I don't really trust anyone to deal with the Muggle side of things. You know exactly what to say – or more importantly, what _not_ to say. None of my guys who are ready have the same background as you do in Muggle relations.”

  


“You can thank Hermione for that,” chortled Ron.

  


Harry didn't look amused. “This is very serious, Ron. There's a wizard out there taking Muggles and Muggleborns and torturing them. It's disgusting and it makes my blood boil.”

  


“So what exactly connects all these victims?”

  


“The way they were found, the way they were tortured, and that out of the sixty-four victims, fifty of them were found with a wizard artifact – bracelets, coins, first-edition books, a random slew of things.”

  


“I know you well enough to know that you don't think the things are actually random.”

  


Harry shook his head. “No, I don't. See how complicated this is? I've got the Minister breathing down my neck about this case as well as several others. We're the most successful Auror Department the Ministry has seen in a century, yet it's never good enough for them. They always want more.”

  


“Can I take this home? I know Hermione could help me.”

  


“Okay, but Ron, she does have to work, too, you know. She's got a job and a big project going on.”

  


“I know, but this is more important.”

  


Harry winced. “Don't let her hear you saying that!”

  


“We've been married for twenty years. I think I know her well enough to know when to keep my mouth shut.” Ron paused. “Well, most of the time.”

  


“Yeah, right,” replied Harry, seemingly unconvinced. “Okay, take it home and look it over. Why don't you come back on Friday and we'll really go over absolutely everything and figure out where to begin.”

  


“Sure thing, boss.”

  


Harry grinned. “You don't have to call me boss.”

  


“Why not? It's rather fetching, don't you think?” Ron sniggered as he stood and walked to the door of Harry's office. “Are you coming 'round for the farewell dinner Sunday night?”

  


“Yeah, of course. I tried to convince James to come and see his brother and sister off for another school year, but he thinks he's too grownup for it right now. He moved into his own flat just last week. Finally got him out of the bloody house.”

  


“All by himself?”

  


“What, the flat? No, with a mate. I don't know if his job is going to be enough to let a flat, but Ginny's convinced me to keep my mouth shut on this one.”

  


“Which mate?”

  


Harry shook his head. “Just some twenty-something kid from Magical Games and Sports. He wasn't exactly in the running for Head Boy and I'll leave it at that.”

  


“James is friends with some guy who's an idiot? That doesn't really seem like James. He must've really wanted to get out of the house!”

  


Harry shrugged. “I don't know. I don't really like him for my son – as a flatmate, y'know. He doesn't seem very responsible. Hannah says he comes around all the time to her place for a drink.”

  


“Hannah who?”

  


Harry raised his eyebrows. “Hannah Longbottom, of the Leaky Cauldron? Ron, you're losing your touch! Perhaps I should take you off the case after all!”

  


“Yeah, yeah,” mumbled Ron, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  


“Anyway, I don't really like the bloke, but it was time for James to leave home; he was getting older, ready to move on. He's been dating, but he can't really bring anyone home, now can he, if he lives at home. It's strange, all his things being gone, but I've got to get used to the idea of my kids growing up and not needing me anymore.”

  


“We're old as shit, Harry. I keep trying to tell Hermione that, but she just bloody ignores me.”

  


Harry smiled. “Old as shit? Watch what you say! I'm barely forty-three years old!”

  


Ron returned the grin. “All right, Harry, I'll do nothing but look over all these notes and evidence and we'll talk about it in a couple days. G'night.”

  


“Night, Ron. Hope I haven't made you late for dinner!”

  


Ron nodded his last goodbye and set off towards home. 

  


XXXXXXX

  


On the last night before his kids were supposed to go back to school, Ron found himself wishing they didn't have to leave. They had a lovely dinner with the rest of the Weasley-Potter family at a restaurant in Diagon Alley with many glasses of blackberry wine. Ron had left dinner feeling slightly loopy and had kissed his kids goodnight, not really wanting to see them go to bed.

  


“One more goodbye from Rose,” said Hermione, “and then she'll be done with school.” She took off her earrings and placed them in her jewelry box. She slipped off her skirt and pulled her shirt over her head as she walked to her wardrobe to take out her pajamas.

  


“We have a seventeen-year-old daughter, Hermione,” said Ron, who was already dressed for bed and lying under the covers, waiting for his wife to join him. “You do realize that that makes us old as dirt?”

  


“Yes, you've told me that plenty of times lately, so please don't remind me of how old I've become.” Hermione crossed the room and lay down next to Ron. She looked at him, smiling. “I can't believe it's her last year, though.”

  


“She didn't want to go back.”

  


“I thought she might say that.”

  


“Did you?” Ron was surprised. “Really?”

  


“She doesn't like school, but even if she doesn't get a single N.E.W.T., she'll still learn and that's what's important.”

  


“Of course – learning. _You_ would think of it like that.”

  


“She'll learn useful everyday spells. She belongs in this world, not the Muggle world, so every spell she learns will come in useful one day. She's so much like you, Ron, it's uncanny.”

  


“Really?”

  


“I don't think she's matured as much as you did during our seventh year, but we faced something most teenagers could never even imagine.”

  


Ron found Hermione's hand under the covers and grasped it. “I'm facing something I couldn't imagine at work now, too.”

  


“You are? Is it that bad? I've heard rumors, but the last week or so, you've really downplayed what you're doing. I looked at those files, but there's new stuff happening, isn't there?”

  


Ron nodded.

  


“What's going on?” asked Hermione, squeezing Ron's hand reassuringly.

  


“We found three Muggle girls, two of whom had these ancient coins on them, really old coins, before Galleons were even made. You remember some of the other victims several years back had similar coins? We did an audit on Malfoy's books and found that he had bought coins just like those for two different clients. We can't prove he did anything, but it's a big coincidence, isn't it? But here's what's more strange: the two girls with the coins looked alike. They were redheads from Ireland, both of them. Isn't that weird?

  


“But even more than that,” continued Ron, “they were tortured. I've never seen anything like it. The Cruciatus and the Killing Curse don't leave any traces behind. These girls were tortured using Muggle techniques.”

  


“So, how does the Ministry know that these girls weren't killed by Muggles?”

  


“Because the Muggle doctors said that even though they were tortured, it wasn't enough to kill them.”

  


“Is it just girls? I know there have been men before, in the past, from what I read in that file, but lately now that everything seems to be resurfacing. I promise I'll finish the file soon. I've been so overwhelmed with my own project--”

“Hermione, it's fine. I understand. I can't expect you to drop everything to help me with work when you have a job of your own.”

  


Hermione kissed him unexpectedly – and hard. It was a quick kiss, but full of passion, similar to their first kiss right before they joined the Battle of Hogwarts when they were eighteen.

  


“Sorry,” said Hermione with a sly grin. “I couldn't help myself.”

  


“I like when you can't help yourself. It's bloody amazing.”

  


Hermione's cheeks flushed. “Anyway, I was asking you if all the recent victims were women.” 

  


Ron shook his head. “No. Harry reckons there's now a Muggle man, around forty. The Muggle authorities found him this afternoon. We're going to look at him tomorrow after we drop the kids off at Kings Cross.”

  


“Did he have a coin, too?”

  


“No, Harry said in his belongings was a small dagger, clearly goblin-made from the photograph he got from the Muggles. We'll be able to tell once we check everything out tomorrow. I knew the Death Eaters tortured people, y'know? But it was different, because we never _saw_ the results of that, and there aren't physical signs of the Cruciatus. I don't know what happened to this bloke, though. I wish I hadn't told Harry I'd work for him again.”

  


“Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry.”

  


“It's all right. Harry still reckons I'm the best man for the job, but now I wish he hadn't so much confidence in me.”

  


“Why shouldn't he? You were a great Auror!”

  


“I was okay. Harry was always the best and Neville did a good job, too.”

  


“You were all amazing,” said Hermione firmly. “You did excellent magic catching the rogue Death Eaters. I was really proud of you. Don't downplay what you did, it was wonderful.”

  


Ron wasn't entirely convinced.

  


“You'll be all right,” whispered Hermione. “You're really clever and you have me to help, so I'm sure we can figure this out soon.”

  


“Thanks.”

“Isn't it slightly exciting for you, though? Catching Dark wizards again?”

  


“Not yet. We haven't done much chasing or catching. Though, I suppose it is a bit nice to be back in the Auror Department.”

  


“I thought so.” Hermione kissed Ron's mouth softly and settled more fully under the covers. “Goodnight. We have a busy morning ahead of us.”

  


XXXXXXX

  


September first came quickly. Rose hadn't heard from Scorpius since she sent him her last owl, which included a Muggle photograph of the beach, since he hadn't understood what a stationary photograph looked like. She kissed her parents goodbye and helped Hugo with his trunk since he wasn't old enough to do magic and his trunk was weighed down with so many books.

  


During dinner the night before, Rose and Roxanne had made plans to share a compartment on the ride to school and would hopefully be joined by Audrey. Rose and Albus had stumbled over an apology to one another, although Rose wasn't convinced whatsoever that Albus actually thought it was all right to be friends with Scorpius Malfoy.

  


“I'll see you around,” said Hugo once they had boarded the train. “Have a good school year.”

  


Rose looked quizzically at her little brother. “What?”

  


“Well, we don't ever talk, do we? This summer I actually had fun with you for the first time, but now that we're back at school, you'll be with your friends and we'll continue to not talk. So . . . see you at Christmas.”

  


Rose grabbed Hugo's arm as he turned to go find a compartment with his friends.

  


“Don't be insane,” she said. “I had fun this summer, too. You're always welcome to talk to me. I don't mind. And you can always ask my advice on girls, too, y'know. I know you fancy Maisy.”

  


Hugo turned bright red, a trait he had definitely picked up from their father. He mumbled something under his breath and, adjusting his newly acquired prefect badge, he walked away from Rose. Suddenly, he turned around, stared at his sister and said, “Thank you,” before continuing down the train corridor.

  


Rose turned to the nearest compartment. It looked empty so she went inside, storing her trunk overhead. She wondered where her friends were and stuck her head out of the compartment door – just as Scorpius walked by.

  


“Hi,” he said.

  


“Hello.”

  


He had his trunk behind him and his wand sticking out of the front pocket of his Muggle-style jeans. “I got your last owl, but I got really busy helping my dad with his business. The Ministry is _really_ breathing down his neck. I liked your photograph, though. It was weird how the waves didn't move; I half-expected them to. Did you have a good rest of the summer?”

  


“It wasn't bad,” admitted Rose. She leaned against the door. “My little brother actually helped me finish some of my summer homework, though I expect even a perfect essay from me wouldn't be enough for Professor Grimstone.”

  


“You're the best in the year at Transfiguration and you know it, so don't let her bother you.”

  


Rose shrugged. “Maybe.” She paused, unsure of what to say next. Things were easy in their owls over the summer and their quick responses made them feel like friends. Only now, on the Hogwarts Express, going back to school, Rose wasn't sure what they were. She had romanticized their correspondence, but looking at Scorpius now, she felt embarrassed about the thoughts she'd had.

  


“I liked getting your owls. Most of my friends don't really under--”

  


“Hi, Scorpius.”

  


Rose looked around Scorpius; Ada Fenwick had just walked up. Her hair was long and wavy and she wore a tight-fitting t-shirt with a lovely flowing skirt. She was very attractive and since she was in Ravenclaw, she was also very intelligent – or at least, devoted to her studies. 

  


“Oh, hi, Ada.”

  


“I was hoping we could talk, but I see you're talking to . . . who are you?”

  


Rose didn't realize at first that Ada had spoken to her. She stood up straight. “I'm Rose, er, Weasley.”

  


“Roser Weasley?”

  


“No. Just Rose. Rose Weasley.”

  


“Another Weasley? You don't look like a Weasley.”

  


“Why not?”

  


“Isn't there a Roxanne Weasley?”

“That's my cousin.”

  


“But she's black.”

  


Rose glanced at Scorpius who merely shrugged. “Yes, my dad and her dad are brothers, but her mum is Angelina Johnson. I don't really think that matters--”

  


“I'm Ada Fenwick.”

  


“Yeah, I know. We've had classes together before.”

  


“Have we?” Ada shrugged. “I don't really remember, but I guess you do, since you knew who I was. I'm sorry I didn't know your name.”

  


Rose didn't actually think Ada was sorry. “I think we had Care of Magical Creatures--”

  


“Soft option for a class, if you ask me. I didn't much care for it, but I suppose it was all right for some.”

  


Rose looked at Scorpius again. “I'll let you talk to your girlfriend.”

  


“She's not—” Scorpius shook his head. “Ada, why don't you go find an empty compartment and I'll catch up with you?”

  


Ada looked at her watch. “Okay, I'll see you in a few moments, then.”

  


As Ada walked away, Rose shook her head in disbelief. “She's so rude! How did you ever date her? I'm in shock.”

  


“She lives in her own world. She never paid attention to who anyone else was. That was part of her charm. She didn't care who my parents were or anything of the sort. But she's very full of herself. Anyway, it was nice getting your owls over the summer. Don't be a stranger during the school year, okay?”

  


“You either.”

  


Scorpius nodded. He flicked his wand and his trunk levitated behind him as he walked down the corridor after Ada. Rose shook her head. She had a feeling Scorpius was going to get back together with his ex-girlfriend. Somehow, she didn't feel jealous. She felt odd, but she couldn't really place her feelings.

  


The train gave a lurch and began to roll down the tracks, away from Kings Cross. Rose sat down in her empty compartment. She smiled to herself as they began the journey back to school. Soon, she was joined by Roxanne and Albus, and not too long after that, Audrey and Olivia. Olivia sat quietly while the rest of them chatted and laughed, but she was always very quiet. It was lovely to be with her friends again after two months away from them and Rose couldn't help but be glad that she hadn't decided not to return after all.

  


The rest of the ride was uneventful and when they arrived in Hogsmeade, Rose felt tired and hungry. She rode with Audrey and Roxanne in one of the horseless carriages and discussed the foods they hoped would be served at the feast. The Sorting didn't take long, and Gryffindor got six new girls, three of whom were triplets, and four new boys. Rose piled food on her plate and ate until her stomach was overfilled. 

  


As she stood up to leave, Professor Longbottom, who taught Herbology and was Head of Gryffindor House, came rushing over from the staff table.

  


“Miss Weasley! Wait a moment!”

  


“I'll catch up with you later,” Rose told Audrey and Albus. Albus left to go back to the common room, but Audrey waited by the doors.

  


“Miss Weasley, I forgot to owl you over the summer.” Professor Longbottom was notorious for being forgetful. He had a smooth face, which made him look very young, even though his hair was beginning to gray about his ears. Most of the students really liked him; he was quite possibly the most popular teacher at Hogwarts.

  


“It's okay, Professor. What d'you need?”

  


“I wanted to give you this.” Professor Longbottom reached into the pocket of his robes. “Er . . .” He reached into the other pocket. “Ah! Got it! Here.” Professor Longbottom handed Rose a shiny red and gold badge.

  


“You're making me a prefect?” asked Rose, horrified.

  


“Prefect?” Professor Longbottom laughed. “No! You're the new Quidditch Captain!”

  


“Oh!” exclaimed Rose, looking more closely to the badge. “Fantastic! Thank you!”

  


“You're a fantastic Beater, maybe the best since your uncles, Fred and George. I know you'll do really well. Professor Grimstone has had that trophy in her office for two years and I want it back.” Professor Longbottom grinned. “Have a good night. Now . . . where did I put my wand?”

  


“Thanks, Professor!” said Rose again. She took the badge and pinned it to her school robes and went to the doors of the Great Hall. She walked with Audrey back to the common room, both of them admiring the Captain's badge, and told the Fat Lady the new password (“ _Bubotuber!_ ”). Gerard Bonaccord stood by the girls' staircase, as though waiting for someone.

  


“Hi, Gerry,” greeted Rose. She made to walk by him to go upstairs to her dormitory, but he blocked her way.

  


“Hi, Rose. Have a good summer, then?”

  


“It was all right. Yours?”

  


“The same. I was wondering . . .”

  


“Yeah?”

  


Gerry reddened and began to stumble over his words. “Nothing, er . . . just wondering how you were. I hope we can study again this year, I know last term you sort of banned it. . . .”

  


“Of course we can. I expect I'll need the help this year since it's N.E.W.T. level.”

  


“Cool. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah? Probably in Transfiguration.”

  


“Right. G'night, Gerry.”

  


As Gerry walked up the boys' dormitory stairs, Rose turned and stared, open-jawed, at Audrey, who let out a loud giggle. Audrey put a hand over her mouth and continued to giggle.

  


“He waited just to ask you out!”

  


“Shh!” snapped Rose. “He'll hear you! He just asked if we could study together.”

  


Audrey grinned and linked her arm with Rose as they walked up the dormitory stairs together and went into the room they shared with Olivia.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Two weeks into the new term and it had already proven to be the most difficult Rose had ever experienced. The homework quickly piled on and essays were all expected to be at least half a foot longer than they were the previous year. Potions was the most ridiculous; they were now expected to create their own potions on almost a daily basis. Rose had never failed so much whilst actually trying in her life. 

  


The only thing Rose was any good at was Transfiguration, but even that was taking its toll on her. In the past, she could successfully transfigure anything in one or two attempts, but this final year, she had to practice outside of class and even then, she wasn't always successful. 

  


One night in the library, Rose tried to finish up the conclusion of her Potions essay. She sat at a table with Gerry and had his essay in front of her – as reference, she told herself, not for cheating. Between her and Gerry on the table was a stack of books three feet high. It was hard to concentrate on homework when she had planned for Quidditch tryouts the next afternoon.

  


“I don't understand this at all,” said Rose, dropping her quill on the table and rubbing her eyes. “I give up.”

  


“Don't do that,” said Gerry, looking at her essay. “You've just got the conclusion left.”

  


“But I don't even understand what I'm writing. How on earth do you get it?”

  


Gerry shrugged. “I don't know. I study a lot more than you do, probably four to six hours a day.”

  


“That's mad. I don't have the patience for that.” Rose shook her head. “I should have just taken Transfiguration and Defense and nothing else.”

  


“You're not allowed to only take two classes.”

  


“I _know_ that. I can't concentrate.” Rose took out a new piece of parchment and began drawing X's and O's on it. She watched out of the corner of her eye Scorpius enter the library. She turned her head to the left, to look at him more fully. He walked with Ada by his side, carrying his Transfiguration book and a book of Quidditch techniques. Turning back, she continued to scribble on her parchment, but she could still see Scorpius approaching.

  


“What are you doing?”

  


Rose looked up. “Hello. I'm studying with Gerry here.”

  


“Hello, Gerard,” said Scorpius, with a tense tone to his voice that Rose did not expect to hear. “Potions? I finished that essay earlier. It might've been the most difficult essay I've ever written.”

  


Gerry just grunted in response.

  


“Are those Quidditch plays?” asked Scorpius, his attention back on Rose.

  


She quickly turned the parchment over. “ _Yes_. And they're not for your eyes. I'm holding tryouts tomorrow and I'm trying to get a plan together for my team, once it's formed.”

  


“That's right. You've lost three of your players, haven't you? Quinn, Mallory, and Fifer all left Hogwarts last year.”

  


“I lost my left hand,” said Rose. “Fifer was a great Beater. Mallory was a right decent Keeper, too. We'll see what happens.” She turned in her seat towards Scorpius, who had one hand on the table and one hand on the back of her chair. “Did I see you walk in with Ada?”

  


“Yes.”

  


“Back together, then?”

  


“No. We ran into one another outside the library. She wanted to study for Charms and I need to study for Transfiguration. That essay Grimstone set is rather intense and I still haven't managed to transfigure myself or anyone else.”

  


“Really? What's the problem? I mean, cross-species transfiguration can be difficult, so changing yourself into anything that isn't mammal is extremely difficult. The most difficult human transfiguration is changing yourself into an inanimate object.”

  


“Then how do you do it? Transfigure everything, I mean.”

  


“I know exactly how to flick my wand.”

  


Scorpius sniggered. “Is that right? You'll have to teach me sometime. I have set the expectation for myself to get all O's on my N.E.W.T.s this year.” He stood. “I'll let you get back to Quidditch, but you're welcome to come help me with Transfiguration anytime.”

  


“Only if you're sure your girlfriend won't mind. She didn't seem to like me the last time we spoke on the train.”

  


“She's not my girlfriend. Bye, Rose.” Scorpius nodded at Gerry. “Gerard.” Giving Rose's shoulder a small squeeze, he left and went to his own table where Ada was busy pretending to read her Charms book.

  


“How d' you know Malfoy?”

  


“He's a student at this magical institution we attend,” said Rose sarcastically.

  


“Are you friends with him?”

  


“Yes.” Rose paid closer attention to her Quidditch outlines. There were several minutes of silence while she focused on Quidditch and Gerry focused on Charms.

  


“Did you see the posting for the next Hogsmeade visit?”

  


Rose nodded.

  


“It's just for seventh-years. D'you want to go . . . ?”

  


“I plan on going. I'm out of Sugar Quills and I want to get some new ink.”

  


“I meant with me.”

  


Rose looked up. Gerry sat there, looking vulnerable, his quill shaking slightly in his hand. “Er . . . maybe. I might have plans already, but nothing is solidified. . . . I'll have to let you know, if that's all right.”

  


“Oh.” Gerry looked disappointed. “Okay.”

  


Rose couldn't help but feel guilty. She didn't want to hurt Gerry's feelings, but she didn't want to lead him on either. It was a problem she had faced the year before as well, and it wasn't getting any easier. Rose hoped she'd be able to find plans for Hogsmeade so she wouldn't end up telling Gerry “yes” out of pity. He'd fancied her for ages, at least the last four years that Rose could remember, and every time he wanted to study or go to Hogsmeade, Rose felt trapped because she didn't want to hurt him, but she simply did not fancy him and probably never would. 

  


“I'm really knackered,” said Rose, gathering her things. “I'm going to turn in for the night.” She reached across the table and gave Gerry's hand a light pat. “Thank you for all your help. You're a really great friend. I'll see you at breakfast.”

  


Once her books and papers were back in her bag, Rose made a quick exit from the library. She'd barely made it out the doors when a voice stopped her.

  


“Rose, wait up!” Scorpius had followed her. He had a quill pushed behind one ear and his white-blond hair hung around his pale face. “Listen, d'you fancy a fly after your tryouts tomorrow? We don't have a Quidditch practice scheduled for another two weeks and I've been itching for some time in the air. I didn't dare ask in front of Gerard – he looked as though he might curse me back there.”

  


“He can be a little intense sometimes.”

  


“He seems protective. He isn't your boyfriend, is he?”

  


“No, he's not. Would it matter if he was?”

  


Scorpius shrugged. “I suppose not. It's just flying, isn't it?”

  


“Just flying, yes.”

  


“And I suppose we're friends, aren't we? You'd be allowed to have friends if you were dating Gerard, wouldn't you?”

  


“Yes, I'd have friends even if I had a boyfriend.”

  


“I'll come round the pitch sometime in the afternoon, after your tryouts. Maybe you can Beat the charm out of the Bludgers again.”

  


Rose smiled. “I'll try my best. I'll let you get back to studying.”

  


“Good night.”

  


“'Night.”

  


Scorpius hesitated. “Ada isn't my girlfriend and despite any rumors you might've heard or despite seeing us study together, I'm not getting back together with her, either. I just thought you should know.”

  


“Why?”

  


“Friends should know certain things about each other, shouldn't they?”

  


“In that case, Gerry isn't my boyfriend and will never be my boyfriend. He's a lovely friend, but I've never fancied him.”

  


“Which is good information to know,” replied Scorpius, “since we're friends.”

“Right.” Rose paused. “He asked me to Hogsmeade, which I suppose means he fancies me. I mean, I knew he did, but I tried to ignore it for so long. . . .”

  


“What did you say?”

  


“About what?”

  


Scorpius rolled his eyes, looking annoyed. “About Hogsmeade.”

  


“Oh, I told him I might have plans, but I have to double-check before I can commit to him.”

  


“That's a right awful excuse.”

  


“Is it? I thought it was all right. I didn't want to say no and hurt his feelings.”

  


“I would've said no. There's no point in beating a dead hippogriff, is there? If you fancy him, you fancy him. If you don't, you don't, and I get the impression you've been letting him gently down for a while, yeah?”

  


“I suppose.”

  


“Let him down hard and get it over with. Though, Ada asked me to take her to Hogsmeade, too.”

  


“Oh? And what did you say?”

  


“I told her I already had a date,” replied Scorpius.

  


“Do you?” asked Rose, the back of her neck heating up.

  


“No.”

  


“Okay, so instead of letting her down hard and getting it over with, you lied, yeah? Not exactly honorable, is it?”

  


“No, not really.”

  


“You could tell her you're taking me to Hogsmeade,” suggested Rose, “then I'd have a solid excuse for Gerry and you'd have an excuse for Ada.” Rose choked on her words and began to cough; she immediately regretted saying anything. She hadn't meant for those words to actually come out of her mouth! “I mean, not a date. We're friends. Friends can go to Hogsmeade.”

  


“Right, as friends. Unless there's someone else you'd rather have ask you. . . .”

  


“No! I mean, no . . . there's not really anyone I have in mind at the moment.” Rose cleared her throat.

  


“Hogsmeade sounds all right, then,” said Scorpius, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It's not for another couple weeks so there's time to discuss it.”

  


“Right, we'll talk about it later.”

  


“Well then, good night.”

  


“'Night,” said Rose again. She walked away from Scorpius and towards the Gryffindor common room, her head full of thoughts about Hogsmeade, Quidditch tryouts, and flying afterwards.

  


XXXXXXXX

  


Tryouts the next day were grueling. Audrey and Albus came to watch and show their support for Rose, but every time she looked in the stands, they were shaking their heads and wincing. Rose knew the truth; this year's turn-out for Quidditch trials was horrible. There wasn't a single decent flyer in the lot. She wrote down notes on each of the players and told them she'd let everyone know tomorrow. Secretly, she was panicking. What if she was forced to choose between the people who had showed up? 

  


The Keepers were supposed to try and keep the Quaffle from going into the hoops, but instead they seemed to let it in more in than they kept it out. The Beaters hit each other more times than they hit the Bludgers and the Chasers dropped the Quaffle more times than they caught it. Rose was miserable. The longer the tryouts lasted, the darker the sky became and the stronger the wind blew; it only made Rose feel even worse.

  


“D'you want to go in for dinner?” asked Audrey. She had come onto the pitch after Rose dismissed everyone. “I heard from a little house-elf that they're serving your favorite apple tart for pudding. It might cheer you up.”

  


Rose shook her head.

  


“I have some Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes pie up in my dormitory,” said Albus. “Uncle George makes a really good Cheery Cherry Pie. Made me cheery for about three hours.”

  


Rose shook her head again. “No, I'm going to stay here and fly around some.”

  


“With Scorpius Malfoy?” asked Albus with a sneer.

  


“Why d'you say that?”

  


“He was in the stands.”

  


Rose kept herself from surveying the seats. “We talked about flying, yes.”

  


“You're going to fly around with a Slytherin?” demanded Albus. “What if he's just watching you to find your weakness? He's probably going to report back to his captain.”

  


“That's quite a conspiracy,” said Rose. “Maybe he just likes flying and it has nothing to do with Quidditch.”

  


“Maybe he just likes you,” suggested Audrey.

  


Rose shrugged. “We're friends, that's all. I'm allowed to have friends, aren't I?”

  


“Well, generally I like to preapprove your friends, to make sure they're suitable for you,” joked Audrey, “but I suppose he'll be all right, as long as he's not a Death Eater like his father.”

  


Rose felt the anger rise in her again. “I'll see you two later,” she said with such finality neither of her friends questioned it. Albus and Audrey walked across the pitch and towards the castle. Rose turned and looked through the stands; she spotted Scorpius walking down the seats towards her. She waited, letting her anger cool.

“That was an impressive turnout.”

  


“Don't joke,” said Rose, “it's miserable. _I'm_ miserable. I want to be a good Captain, but how am I supposed to do that if I don't have any decent players?”

  


“Hoover, Meriwether, and Krimkowski were decent.”

  


“They were on the team last year, of course they're decent. This is ridiculous.” Rose rubbed her eyes. “It's really frustrating. I've never thought myself much of a leader before and suddenly now I have to lead a whole team. I know I can do it, I've got a good mind for strategy, but . . .”

  


“But what?”

  


Rose looked in Scorpius' gray eyes. “I don't know. I'm just stressed, I suppose.” She turned her head upwards and looked at the clouds, which were still darkening. “Maybe we should reschedule our fly.”

  


“No, it'll be fine. We'll get a couple good throws in there.”

  


Rose relented and mounted her broom. They spent almost an hour flying and throwing the Quaffle back and forth before the winds picked up to a dangerous speed. Scorpius didn't ask her any questions and didn't talk, which was exactly what Rose needed. There was tranquility in their silence, even with the backdrop of the stormy winds. Rose went back to the castle, feeling less overwhelmed. Her arms instinctively went around Scorpius, giving him a hug, and she thanked him for insisting they fly.

  


“Any time, Rose,” said Scorpius. He gave her a quick smile before turning and walking towards the staircase that would take him to the Slytherin common room.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Draco Malfoy sat in a large dragonskin armchair. He drummed his fingers against the arm and took in a deep breath. In his pocket, he had a small bag of antique coins and another even smaller bag with three antique rings. He was waiting on a wizard named Arturo Gallows, who had more connections in the antique world than any other wizard. Draco had begun to work for him around Easter and it had boosted his sales tenfold. He now made more money than ever before.

  


It was strange, however, the way Arturo always had clients ready and looking for certain antiques – and always the same antiques. Usually it was coins, weapons, and rings, but he had received the occasional request for certain books, too, which were the most difficult to track down. Since he had begun working for Arturo, Draco had been pulled into the Ministry and audited, all his books gone through page by page, more times than ever before, and he had no idea why.

  


“Ah, Mr. Malfoy, thank you for waiting.”

  


Draco stood, looking Arturo right in the eye. The older wizard had long black hair, streaked with gray, which hung past his shoulders. He had a neatly trimmed beard and always wore red robes. He was tall and broad and gave off an indisputable aura of power.

  


“Come into my office and we'll see what you've brought us.”

  


Draco followed Arturo from the sitting area into the office. Arturo had a shop at the corner of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, at the apex of good and bad. His back room consisted of several shelves of antiques against one wall and a sitting area with three dragonskin chairs and a short table, where Draco had just waited. Past the sitting room was Arturo's office, which was large. There were portraits on all the walls and a large desk with many drawers. Draco sat down in a chair, facing Arturo. He emptied his bag of coins onto the desk.

  


“There are four Galleons, thought to be lost forever, dated in the year 42. I estimate their worth to be about one-hundred Galleons on today's market. Then, I have these three silver coins. They're goblin-made, but before there were really any laws regarding money and before our money was universal. These coins are dated somewhere between 400 BC and 200 BC. I estimate they're worth about five-thousand Galleons each. They're some of the oldest coins I've ever found.”

  


“Where did you find them?” asked Arturo, picking up one of the silver ones and examining it closely.

  


“An estate sale in Newberry. A Muggle had them and no one had any idea of their worth or history. He had an extensive collection of coins, but the rest were Muggle.”

  


“You often associate with Muggles?” asked Arturo with a sneer laced in his voice.

  


Draco shrugged. “I do have a Muggle newspaper, which lists estate sales. Muggles often have wizard artifacts and antiques and have no idea what they really are. Muggles are rather daft like that.”

  


“Fascinating. Well, I shall reimburse you for the money you put out on the coins, plus forty-percent of the profits, as usual.”

  


Draco nodded. “That will be fine.”

  


Arturo waved his wand over a blank piece of parchment and words appeared. It was a list of everything Arturo was taking into his possession and the contract on how Draco would be paid once the antiques were sold. It was very easy working for Arturo; sometimes Draco had antiques in his own collection for years before anyone wanted to buy them. Arturo always had a client ready to purchase and within a week, Draco had money from the sale.

  


“Ah, speaking of which,” said Arturo, now tapping his wand on one of his handle-less desk drawers, “I have the money I owe you from last week.” He took out a briefcase filled with Galleons. “For the coins you brought me and the old Slytherin tapestry.”

  


Draco took the case and looked inside. There were rows of Galleons and two rows of Sickles. “Sir . . .”

  


“Yes?”

  


“How much is in here?”

  


“Fourteen-thousand Galleons and one-hundred Sickles. That's the one-thousand you paid for everything, plus forty percent of what I sold it for. The briefcase is charmed to hold all the money neatly. You can bring the case back to me once you've deposited it into your Gringotts vault.”

  


“What I brought you last week wasn't valued over ten-thousand Galleons. How can forty-percent be this much?”

  


“My clients like the ease of getting exactly what they want, so they pay top dollar for it. You'll do well to keep your mouth shut. No one else knows as much as you about antiques, so if the Ministry meddles in your affairs again, no one will be the wiser. If you like, I can find another antiques dealer to replace you.”

  


Draco shook his head; the money was too good to pass up. “No thank you. I'll continue working.”

  


“Good. Don't question me again.”

  


“No, sir,” said Draco, “I won't.” He stood and walked through the office door, shutting it behind him. Part of him knew that in order to stay out of Azkaban he should refrain from doing business with Arturo Gallows, but at the same time, he was finally able to give his wife the things she should have always had. She said money wasn't important to her, but he had grown up in a house where everyone was pampered, especially his mother. Even though there were a great many things he did not like about his household, he did like how his father was able to provide for his family. Draco was a lot better off than many families, but he never had as much money as he would have liked. Arturo was giving him that chance to become wealthy once again.

  


Draco went through the shop and back towards the Leaky Cauldron where he would Disapparate home to his wife.

  


XXXXXXX  
  


**To Be Continued . . .**

  


XXXXXXX


	6. Pink Blushes

XXXXXXX

  


**Chapter Six: Pink Blushes**

  


XXXXXXX

  


_October 2023_

  


XXXXXXX

The postings board just outside the Great Hall had been updated with the official Quidditch schedule:

_4 November_ _ **Gyffindor vs. Slytherin**_

_9 December_ _**Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff** _

_13 January_ _**Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw** _

_10 February_ _ **Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin**_

_2 March_ _**Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff** _

_6 April_ _ **Ravenclaw vs. Gryffindor**_

The premiere match was Gryffindor versus Slytherin on the first weekend of November, but then the Gryffindor team didn't play again until the fifth match in March. Rose wasn't pleased she had to play Slytherin in the first match of the year, but she _was_ pleased that by watching the other matches, she would be able to see just how the other Houses played before facing them in a game. It would give her plenty of time to coach her team and be a real Captain, to prepare her team for each of the other Houses.

  


Rose stared at the posting for longer than necessary. During the week, she and Scorpius managed to catch one another on their way into the Great Hall for breakfast. They spent a moment chatting at the doors before going in and sitting at their respective tables. On the weekends, Scorpius usually woke up hours before Rose, ate breakfast, and was already in the library studying before Rose even opened her eyes. Today, which was Saturday, Rose hoped to catch a glimpse of Scorpius before she entered the Great Hall. She had woken early, just after sunrise, and couldn't fall back asleep. Freshly showered and dressed in Muggle-style jeans and a jumper, Rose was ready for the day.

  


It was the first Hogsmeade visit for the seventh-years. She and Scorpius hadn't spoken about going together since that evening outside the library. Somehow she had been able to avoid any questions about Hogsmeade from her friends. With one last look at the Quidditch schedule, Rose turned to go into the Great Hall. As she moved, she caught that glimpse of Scorpius she had been hoping for. He walked down the corridor with Magnus Higgs, Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. They looked as though they were in deep conversation.

  


“Ah, Rose,” said Scorpius, looking clearly pleased to have a reason to stop talking to Magus. “How are you? Ready for Hogsmeade?”

  


“Yes,” replied Rose, “are you?”

  


“Hogsmeade?” repeated Magnus. “You're going to Hogsmeade?”

  


“Yes,” replied Scorpius. “What else should I be doing?”

  


“What you _should_ be doing is finding me another Chaser! This is ridiculous!”

  


“Another Chaser? What's happened to the ones you've got now?” asked Rose.

  


Magnus' already dark skin turned darker, his eyes narrowing. His gaze went from Rose to Scorpius and then to the notice board. “ _SHIT!_ ” he cried, reaching past Rose and ripping down the schedule. “One month! One month before the first match! Against _Gryffindor_!”

  


“That's plenty of time to practice – and you'll need it,” joked Rose. “We're going to have a fantastic team this year.” She avoided Scorpius' eyes, for he knew she was not confident about her team whatsoever.

  


“Oh really?” said Magnus flatly. “Well, I'm sure you'll win, seeing as how I only have two Chasers now, no thanks to Scorpius.” He crumpled the schedule and threw it across the corridor.

  


Rose blinked. “No thanks to . . . what?”

  


“He's quitting! QUITTING!”

  


Several students walking past them to the Great Hall stopped and stared at Magnus, who was now pulling out his hair. Scorpius cleared his throat and looked to Rose.

  


“I'll tell you about it in town. Want to get breakfast there? I could live without the scene Magnus is making.”

  


“Er . . .”

  


“You still want to go to Hogsmeade with me, don't you?”

  


Rose nodded. “Yes!” she said quickly. Rose felt her face grow warm; she hoped she wasn't blushing. “Can we go this early?”

  


“We'll find out.” Scorpius nodded towards the front doors and Rose followed.

  


The weather outside was lovely. There was a slight breeze that cooled Rose's cheeks and she was glad for the jumper she had put on before leaving her dormitory. The professors who usually checked permission slips weren't outside yet, but Scorpius didn't seem to care and headed down the road that took them into the town. He walked slowly, his hands in his pockets, and Rose strode next to him, looking up at the trees, wondering if she should talk first.

  


“So,” she said.

  


“Yes?”

  


“What the hell was that back there?”

  


“I had to quit Quidditch. I couldn't keep up with being Head Boy and studying and practicing three times a week. Did I show you the marks I got on the last Transfiguration exam?”

  


Rose nodded. “Yes, you got an A.”

  


“Right. I need O's. I am never going to get all O's in my N.E.W.T.s if I don't do better on my exams in class. This isn't a joke. I need more time to study and less time on frivolous things.”

  


“You think Quidditch is frivolous?”

  


“Yes. If I want to fly, I can do it in my free time, but I cannot devote three nights a week to it. It's brilliant for you, of course, because you don't care about your marks. I don't have that luxury.”

  


“I do care about them--”

  


“Not like I do.”

  


Rose wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, trying to carefully choose her words. “Just because I don't study six hours a day doesn't mean I don't care about classes or my future. I do care, you know I do, but I don't study all the time – I like having a life. It's not like I don't study because I'm stupid.”

  


“I didn't mean--” Scorpius stopped talking abruptly and shook his head. He stopped walking and looked at Rose; they were nearly the same height. He reached out and touched her hair, which made Rose's heart stop. “Sorry,” he said softly, “you had a leaf in your hair.” He held it between his fingers.

  


Rose took the leaf and looked at it. It was orange; autumn had officially come and was showing in the falling leaves. She wondered for a brief moment if the leaf was real or if Scorpius had conjured it as a device to change the subject. Either way, she didn't much care.

  


“I have to do what's best for me and playing sports isn't what's best for my future. I know you understand.”

  


Rose shrugged.

  


“Seriously, Rose, I know you understand, don't you?”

  


“I do.” And she did understand, even if she didn't agree. Scorpius didn't always care how his actions affected others; he was concerned mostly for himself, which was something Rose knew and was beginning to learn to accept as a part of who Scorpius was. “I understand because I _know_ you. Poor Magnus, it was just poor timing. I'm pleased, though. You were a great player and now I don't have to worry about playing defense against you! My Keeper is going to be so thrilled.”

  


Scorpius smiled. “Come on. I'm starving and I hear that the new owner of the Hog's Head serves really good eggs.”

  


XXXXXXX

  


After they ate breakfast, they walked through Hogsmeade, stopping at most of the shops. They passed by Gerry, who pretended to be in deep conversation with Olivia Morgans over a Skivving Snackbox in the joke shop. Later, in the Three Broomsticks, Scorpius said hello to Ada, who was at the bar when he went to order two Butterbeers. Rose couldn't hear the conversation, but she could tell that Ada was being as snotty as usual as she glanced over her shoulder with a disgusted look upon her face at the table where Rose sat.

  


Scorpius came back to the table and handed Rose a bottle. He sat across from her and put his bottle of Butterbeer to his mouth and drank. 

  


“It's your turn to come up with a topic,” said Scorpius.

  


Rose pondered for a moment. “Do you ever fear you'll end up like your parents?” she asked.

  


“I don't think I'd say 'fear.'” Scorpius looked thoughtful. “Though I don't think either of them is particularly happy. I hardly ever hear them laugh. I want to end up with someone who makes me laugh.”

  


“That's surprising.”

  


“Why?”

  


Rose shrugged. “Because you don't seem to place much importance on humor. You're so serious all the time.”

  


“I have to be serious--”

  


“I know, I know, you have to be serious so you can pass all your N.E.W.T.s.” Rose waved a dismissive hand. “But how d'you know you'll ever change? Let's say you get all O's on your exams and you get a job at the Ministry as an Unspeakable or head of some department. You'll probably say you have to work long hours and be serious and diligent until you retire. Then once you're retired, you'll be the same way because you'll have to conserve your money. It won't end.”

  


“Still, in between those times, it's nice to laugh. I enjoy a good joke and story now and again. I need someone who is witty to balance me.”

  


“I don't think you know how to laugh. You're too serious. Does your mouth even turn upwards?”

  


Scorpius sniggered. “You know it does. You've made me laugh before, talking about your new Quidditch team.”

  


“Don't remind me!” said Rose, wincing. “They're terrible! Julie Pitt took a Bludger to the face last week and now screams and avoids the Bludgers altogether, which is complete crap because she's my other Beater. Hester Donaldson was knocked off her broom by Michael Dickinson and now every time he comes at her with the Quaffle, she flies away, which doesn't help him become a better Chaser and just makes her a more miserable Keeper. At least Macy Krimkowski, Belinda Hoover, and Marcus Meriwether are still decent.”

  


“It's good, then, that I'm not playing. We'd have beaten your team so badly, they would've all collectively quit in protest.”

  


“It could still happen. I try to pretend that we're this really good team, but it's bollocks. We're shit.” Rose took a long swig from her bottle. “Anyway, enough about me. What about you and your laughter? I bet Ada never made you laugh.”

  


“Never. That's why it's so much better being around you. You amuse me.”

  


Rose didn't know what to say. She was sure it was meant as a compliment, but she didn't want to be “amusing.”

  


“Are you scared of becoming your parents?” asked Scorpius.

  


Rose shrugged. Her middle finger circled around the mouth of her Butterbeer bottle. The bar was noisy from all the seventh-years and a new group of Ravenclaws had just entered the already crowded pub. 

  


“I think they're boring,” said Rose at last. “I know they're happy. My mum loves her job and my dad is doing something new for the Ministry and I think he loves being an Auror again and they're still madly in love after all this time. Actually, sometimes it's kind of gross how much they're in love with each other. Er, gross for me since I'm their kid, y'know? So it's great for them, but I don't want a Ministry job and I don't want to have two children.” Rose shrugged again. “I don't think I want that kind of convention.”

  


“I don't think I'd mind it so much. I like stability and that's what I'd want in my life.”

  


“You can have stability and still be interesting.”

  


Scorpius shook his head disbelievingly. “Well, I think if you found someone just like you, it would be chaotic and you'd be miserable. You need a rock in your life.”

  


“Perhaps, but rocks aren't funny and I like to laugh, too.”

  


“Some rocks are funny,” said Scorpius. 

  


Rose studied Scorpius' expression. She knew they were speaking in code now and while she found it amusing, she also found it dangerous. She didn't want to play games with him. Of course he was a rock; he was sturdy and strong-minded and knew exactly what he wanted out of life. And yes, he was a funny rock, because he had made her laugh on occasion. But to suggest she needed a rock in her life was like suggesting that she needed him, and that was nerve-wracking. Rose hoped she was interpreting their conversation correctly.

  


“What part of your parents' life scares you?”

  


“I wouldn't say it scares me,” said Rose slowly, “but I think I'd want something more exciting. I'd want to travel and see new places and meet new people. I don't know as if I'd want to stay in one place for the rest of my life. Maybe I want to go to the States and see how they live – I hear their schools are completely different from ours. And I don't think I want kids.”

  


“Do you think that maybe your parents like their lives a little boring because they had so much turmoil defeating Voldemort that they don't want any more excitement?”

  


Rose shook her head. “No, actually, I hadn't thought of it like that. I guess I don't want to end up like them because it's so expected.”

  


“But if it's what you want, then it doesn't matter. My parents expect me to do well in school and get a good job that makes a lot of money. My family has always had a lot of money and lived luxuriously. My father has made the least amount of money for his family than any of my grandfathers before him. So it's expected of me to make a lot of money and live in a large manor. If that's how I end up, then brilliant, but I'm going to take a job I like and do the things I want to do and if I end up with a wife and one son, like my father and his father, then it'll be because _I_ want it, not because it's expected of me. You're so afraid of what other people think of you. I know you don't want to be judged based on your family and people place all sorts of expectations on you because you're a Weasley, but you're always waiting to be judged.”

  


“So are you.”

  


“I know,” replied Scorpius with a nod, “and that's why it's so refreshing to be in your company. You so rarely judge me.”

  


“You don't judge me either. I really like that about you.”

  


“I hope that's not all you like.”

  


Rose's face heated up and she hoped her cheeks weren't turning red. “It's getting really loud,” she said. “Let's go outside.”

  


Scorpius agreed and drank the last of his Butterbeer. When they left the Three Broomsticks, the day was nearly over. It had been nice spending time with Scorpius. They strode along the Hogsmeade street in silence, listening to one another walk, their sneakered-feet quietly tapping the road.

  


“I go back and forth with what department I want to work for,” said Scorpius, “but sometimes I think I want to develop and invent new spells or do research into new potions. I've recently decided that research would be the most fascinating and rewarding for me.”

  


“I want an easy job. I want to play Quidditch and draw.”

  


“I doubt either of those is particularly easy.”

  


“They are if you have enough talent. I don't know if I do yet, but I'm pretty good at Quidditch. I could maybe make a reserve team.”

  


“True. You could always do wizard portraits. The old families, especially the pureblood ones, always have portraits of themselves in their houses. My house is filled with portraits – though, mostly they're of grumpy old Dark wizards who spat out insults at me.”

  


“Insults like what?”

  


“Oh, that my hair is too long or I shouldn't wear Muggle-style clothes.” Scorpius stopped walking in front of a store. He lightly took hold of Rose's wrist and gently pulled her towards the door. “Here, I want to stop into Scrivenshaft's.” His hand stayed on her arm for almost twenty seconds before he let go and opened the door for her.

  


“Thanks.” Rose looked around the shop. She was fully stocked on quills and parchment, yet she was always on the look-out for new ink. Already, she had several different colors and shades, but she liked collecting new bottles.

  


Scorpius walked to the counter, where an older wizard sat, flipping through the newest issues of the _Daily Prophet_.

  


“Hello, I'm here to pick up a package for Malfoy.”

  


The wizard looked up. “Oh, hello, Mr. Malfoy. Yes, your father owled this in yesterday. It's a smaller order than usual. Hold on one moment.” The wizard flicked his wand, and a box, wrapped in brown paper, flew through the store from the back room. “Here you are. It's already paid for.” The wizard looked at Rose for the first time. His eyes narrowed and he kept his gaze as he spoke to Scorpius, “I'll tell him you stopped by for it. Make sure he gets it soon. Should I ask him about your new girlfriend?”

  


“Ask him whatever you like,” said Scorpius coolly. “I'm sure he has better things to worry about then whom I am dating. Thanks.” 

  


He took the package and walked to the door. He held it open for Rose once again, and they began their walk back towards school. The sunlight was beginning to fade and Rose took in the sight of the pink sky. 

  


“Do you always pick up your father's packages?” asked Rose after several quiet minutes.

  


Scorpius nodded. “Yeah, Scrivenshaft's always has things my dad needs, but if they owled everything directly to him, it would cost him. It's free to use the school owls, so I just pick up the order and owl it straight to him.”

  


“What does he order?” asked Rose, curious as to why Draco Malfoy couldn't go to Diagon Alley for quills.

  


Scorpius merely shrugged. “Thanks for joining me in Hogsmeade,” he said, changing the subject so quickly that Rose thought she almost hadn't heard him right. 

  


“Oh, yes! I had fun. It was nice going with you. It's a nice change from always going with Albus and Roxanne.”

  


“I don't think your friends like me. I saw the way they glared at us in town, almost as though they were angry with us for being friends.”

  


“They don't know you,” said Rose. “See, my dad and Albus' dad never liked your dad. I mean, I'm sure now as grownups, they don't really care about your dad, but we've heard stories from when they were in school and they were all enemies. I think they were all equally mean to one another, from what I understand. So I think Albus wants to hate you on principle; there's no real reason to it. But I've told him I'm allowed to be friends with whomever I like. Do your friends hate me, too?”

  


They were back on the school grounds and almost to the front entrance. Scorpius walked a little ways off the path and leaned against one of the many trees scattered in front of the castle. He sat the box from Scrivenshaft's on the ground.

  


“No, they don't hate you. No one really asks. Ada has a couple times, wondering why I would want to date someone who isn't her, but I don't think my friends really care. They've got more important things to worry about. I mean – not that you're not important, but I don't care who my friends are going with as long as they're nice and treat my friends well, and they think along those same lines.”

  


Rose swallowed against a nervous lump in her throat. “Oh? Is that – is that what you're doing?” she asked, her voice raising an octave higher than normal. “Dating me?” The question made her feel vulnerable and she knew her cheeks were turning pink.

  


A sly smile stretched across Scorpius' mouth. “I don't know. Am I? We went to Hogsmeade once, I don't think I'd exactly call that dating, but I did enjoy my day with you – very much so. I'd love to do it again. I don't know why, but I fancy you.”

  


“You don't know why?” asked Rose, feeling more relaxed and a little playful. “That's not good!”

  


“Shut up,” said Scorpius, “you know what I mean.” 

  


Suddenly, Rose knew he was going to kiss her. It was a strange feeling – she was both nervous and calm at the same time. Even though this wasn't her first kiss, or even her second, she still felt that immense weight of anticipation, of longing to know what Scorpius' mouth felt like on hers. Her eyelids fluttered down but stayed open just enough to see Scorpius' lips inching closer to hers.

  


“ _Woo-Ooo!_ ” someone whistled behind them, causing both Rose and Scorpius to jump apart.

  


Rose whipped around. Albus and Audrey stood there with a couple of seventh-years from Hufflepuff; the girls giggled and the boys laughed, except for Albus, who simply glowered. Roxanne whispered something in Audrey's ear who giggled harder.

  


“Don't you lot have something better to do?” snapped Rose. She turned back towards Scorpius and listened as the group behind her walked away. “They're like a gaggle of first-years. Unbelievable.”

  


“We'll do this sometime when there isn't an audience.” Scorpius leaned towards Rose and kissed her cheek. “I'll see you around. I'll be in the library tomorrow, if you want to study with me. Well, of course you don't want to study, so I suppose I should say, in case you want to sit with me while I study and you draw pictures.”

  


Rose nodded. “Sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow.”

  


Scorpius picked up his box and walked away. Rose watched him go before following after him. She walked through the entrance hall and past the Great Hall towards the changing staircases. It took her a few minutes to get to Gryffindor Tower and with each step, she became more and more incensed. At first, it was annoyance and then annoyance turned to anger and anger turned to rage. How _dare_ her friends do that to her. It was immature and unbelievable. 

  


As soon as Rose entered the Gryffindor common room, her eyes sought Albus and Audrey. Fortunately for Roxanne, she belonged to Hufflepuff and wouldn't have to listen to Rose vent her anger, even though she had been there and was just as guilty. Albus and Audrey sat near the fireplace, their jumpers discarded on the floor next to them.

  


Rose drew her wand and pointed it at them. Albus jumped up and whipped out his own wand while Audrey backed up behind him, holding her hands towards the ceiling in surrender. The entirety of the common room went silent.

  


“Calm down, Rose,” said Audrey, her eyes looking at the tip of Rose's wand.

  


“How could you? Both of you.” Rose's eyes filled with unexpected tears. “You could have kept walking, but you embarrassed me. How could you do that?”

  


“We were just playing around,” said Audrey. “You would've done the same thing.”

  


“The same thing if I saw you about to kiss Albus?”

  


Audrey's mouth dropped open in shock. “Excuse me?”

  


“I wouldn't have done anything, I would've left you to it because I know you've fancied him since the train ride back to school September first.”

  


“How? Why?” asked Audrey, her face turning bright red.

  


Albus didn't seem to know what to say. His hand shook a little, his wand faltering. Lowering it, he looked back and forth between Audrey and Rose.

  


“Now we're both equally humiliated,” said Rose, her eyes boring into Audrey's. Albus must have allowed himself some common sense for he kept his mouth shut. Turning on her heel, Rose lowered her wand and walked over to the staircase that led to the girls' dormitory. She walked up into her room. Even though it was early, she put on pajamas and climbed into bed, pulling her bed curtains around her bed. She Summoned her sketchbook from her trunk and spent several quiet hours drawing. The dormitory door opened and shut later that evening, but from the sound of the footsteps, it was Olivia Morgans; Audrey never came upstairs.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Ron entered the large interrogation room. There wasn't anyone to interrogate yet, however, he and Harry had all of Draco's books laid out on the table, along with photographs of all the recent victims. There was a strange timeline happening before their eyes. Draco kept pristine records and detailed everything. For every item he sold, he noted where he bought or found it from, what it looked it, how much he sold it for, and who he sold it to. 

  


“Look here,” said Harry as Ron walked into the room. 

  


Ron sat down the two mugs of coffee he had carried from the little break room and looked at the table where Harry was pointing.

  


“This victim was found with a silver coin in her pocket and two weeks before that, Draco sold some silver coins to someone named A. Gallows. Then here” -- Harry pointed to a new picture -- “this girl had a wizard necklace around her neck, cursed with something, but we don't know what yet. And only a week before she was found, Draco sold a necklace with the same description to A. Gallows. What I don't understand is why Draco is selling pieces to this A. Gallows and how those pieces he's selling are ending up on dead Muggles and Muggleborns. That doesn't make any sense. But if you notice here in Draco's books,n the price he sold the pieces for directly coincide with who the victim is.”

  


Ron studied Draco's books for a moment and then looked at the photographs. “All the Muggleborns who were killed were found with antique artifacts that are significantly more expensive than the pieces found on the Muggle victims. The half-bloods are in the middle, not as expensive as the Muggleborns, but more expensive than the Muggles. What does that mean?” Ron asked the question more to himself than to Harry.

  


“I don't know, but Draco's outside, waiting for us.”

  


Ron sighed. “This will be the fifth time I've seen him in three weeks. I don't want to see him ever again. D'you really think he's responsible for these deaths?”

  


“I have no idea. From what I remember of Draco at Hogwarts, I'd say no. He talked a lot, but he never had the guts to go through with anything. He didn't want to be a Death Eater and he didn't want to kill Dumbledore. I don't think that same person could be doing all this. It honestly does not seem like Draco, but I don't for a second believe he's completely innocent either. I don't think he's doing the actual murders, but he's involved.”

  


“How?” Ron shook his head and stood. “I'll get him.” Ron went to the door and opened it, sticking his head out. “Malfoy.”

  


Draco was seated, his hands in his lap and his thumbs twiddling absentmindedly. He looked bored and that annoyed Ron. Draco got up and walked past Ron into the conference room. He sat and placed his clasped hands on the table.

  


“Am I here to go over my books again? I keep careful and detailed records. I'm not hiding any money and I'm not associating with ex-Death Eaters. I know the latter is a major offense now with the Ministry. I'm clean.”

  


“We'd like to believe that,” said Ron, “but it doesn't add up.” He pointed to Draco's books. “Here, you sold a set of coins two Wednesdays ago, and last week those same coins were on one of our victims.”

  


Draco glanced at the book. “Those coins aren't difficult to find. How do you know they came from me?”

  


“Take a look at this photograph.” Harry picked out a picture from a stack on the table. He slid it towards Draco. “That necklace fits the description here in your books. Have you seen this necklace before?”

  


Draco's eyes rested on the picture for almost a full minute before he responded. “It does look like one I sold not too long ago.”

  


“Is it the same one?”

  


“Yes.”

  


Ron exchanged a glance with Harry. “How do you think it ended up on this girl? She was a Muggleborn witch, did you know that? From Belgium. She was studying Healing at St. Mungo's.”

  


“I did not know.”

  


“Who is A. Gallows?”

  


Draco shook his head. “No.”

  


“What does that mean? I don't know what that means,” said Ron.

  


“I'm not telling you. I am not saying another word.” Draco shook his head again, perhaps for emphasis. “If you're going to arrest me, then do it. Otherwise, I would like to go home to my wife.”

  


Harry moved to sit on the tabletop next to Draco. “Listen, Malfoy, we don't think you actually murdered anyone--”

  


“Harry,” interrupted Ron, but Harry held up his hand, pausing Ron.

  


“--but you are involved somehow. Do you know who _did_ murder all these people?”

  


“No, I don't.”

  


“You aren't being very helpful, Malfoy. I need cooperation. Who is A. Gallows?”

  


“I'm not--”

  


“You _will_ tell us,” said Harry sternly, “or I'll arrest you.”

  


“On what charges?”

  


“It doesn't matter. I'm Head of the department; no one would question me.”

  


Ron was surprised to hear Harry say this; he had never heard him abuse the power of his position and could never imagine him actually doing so. Until now. There was something about this case that was putting them both on edge, and even though they hadn't uncovered the sick truth behind all these murders, Ron knew they were close.

  


Draco seemed to take Harry seriously for he immediately began talking. “A. Gallows is a wizard named Arturo Gallows. He has many clients who want antiques but crave anonymity and Gallows can give them that. I just provide the goods and he pays me well. What happens to the items once they are paid for, I don't know.”

  


“You are able to find many very expensive antiques,” said Harry. “Why would anyone pay seven hundred Galleons for a single coin?”

  


Draco glanced at the entry at which Harry pointed. “Some coins are very valuable.”

  


“If I took these books to an antiques expert, do you think he would value a coin from 712 AD at seven hundred Galleons?” asked Ron.

  


Draco hesitated. “Yes.”

  


Ron didn't believe him; his hesitation gave him away.

  


“If I find out you're lying, I will have you arrested.”

  


“Look,” said Draco, “you both have fought a war before. You know what life and death situations are like.”

  


“Are you saying this is life and death for you?”

  


“It will be if you continue to ask your questions.”

  


Ron and Harry exchanged another glance.

  


“What d'you know?” asked Ron.

  


“No,” refused Draco.

  


“Tell us or I'll arrest you,” said Harry.

  


Ron watched Draco, hoping the wizard would begin to confess everything he knew.

  


“I don't know anything.”

  


“You know things. You know something,” said Ron. “I can arrest you now, if you'd like.”

  


Draco sat back in his chair and took in a deep breath.

  


XXXXXXX

  


The day after her fight with Albus and Audrey, Rose went to the library to seek out Scorpius. She found his bag and his books on a table in the corner near the largest window, but he wasn't there. The books on the table were all potions so Rose set off to the potions sections of the library. She passed by the sports sections where cheering and yelling could be heard from inside the books and the magical creatures section where the books roared and smoked. In the potions section, Scorpius was between the tomes, flipping through a thick, dusty book. He had on a navy jumper, gray trousers, and trainers. 

“Hi.”

  


Scorpius looked up. “Hi,” he said. Even though his mouth didn't smile, his eyes lit up just enough that Rose knew he was happy to see her. “You don't look so well, are you all right?”

  


“Fine.”

  


Scorpius closed the book in his hand and put it back on the shelf. “I don't believe you.” 

  


“I got really hacked off at Albus and Audrey for . . . y'know, what happened yesterday. Now we're not talking.”

  


“Your friends are really immature. Don't lower yourself to their level.”

  


“I like my friends – usually.”

  


Scorpius brushed Rose's dark red hair off her shoulder, his eyes straying to her mouth for a moment before finding her eyes again. “I don't like your friends.”

  


Rose flinched and stepped back. “Oh. Well. They're not always bad. I really like them when they're not being immature. I've been friends with Albus and Roxanne my whole life, they're my age and my cousins and I've got a big family so they've always been a part of my life.”

  


“What about me do they not like, specifically?” asked Scorpius. “Is it my family? Or that I'm in Slytherin?”

  


“I told you before, it's that our parents hated one another when they were in school.”

  


“That has nothing to do with me, so if that's why they don't like me, then that's rather fucked-up.”

  


Rose's eyes widened. She'd never heard Scorpius swear like that before, nor had she really seen him angry. “I guess it is a bit fucked-up, but they're not bad people. You'd have to get to know them.”

  


“Do you want me to know them?”

  


“Yes. No. I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it, to be honest. I think they'd like you if they got to know you.”

  


“Honestly? Why, what would they like about me?”

  


Rose leaned her left shoulder against the bookshelf and sighed. “I don't know. I mean, you like Quidditch, and Albus is really into the professional teams, especially because of his mum's Quidditch history. I know you two could talk for hours about that.”

  


“You think a friendship could be based purely on Quidditch?”

  


“I have no idea.” Rose felt deflated. “I'll let you continue with your Potions homework. I'm going to go work on some Quidditch plays.”

  


“Rose, don't be upset. It's all right if your friends don't like me. I don't need them to like me, but from what I know of you, you need them to like me. You're very loyal and I bet you'd feel guilty splitting your time between me and your friends.”

  


“If I still have any friends. It's one big mess.”

  


“If it makes it easier on you, I don't want you to have to choose. I study a lot and work on my lessons, so if you ever choose to be around your other friends, I wouldn't mind.”

  


“Good, because I don't plan on spending all my time with you anyway. You're boring.”

  


Scorpius laughed. “See, I told you I needed someone witty to balance me out. I could use a break from Potions for a moment; do you want to show me your Quidditch plays?”

  


“You might tell Magnus.”

  


“You know I wouldn't. I was a really good Chaser back in my day, maybe I could help.”

  


“Back in your day? You only quit yesterday!”

  


“But yesterday I was good.”

  


Rose smiled. “All right, I'll show you. C'mon.” She led the way back to the table, where they sat going over Quidditch plays and actually finishing homework until almost dinnertime. 

  


XXXXXXX

  


Ron reached out and took hold of the old, golden door knocker. He banged it against the large door three times and took a step back. Behind him stood Harry Potter and two Aurors, straight out of training. They were new, but very capable. A little farther away was a very short, very portly witch with a notepad in one hand and a magical camera hovering in the air next to her.; she was from the _Daily Prophet_. 

  


A lovely witch in her forties opened the door. She wore expensive robes of deep red and her hair was pulled back in a loose bun. The expression on her face looked passive, as though she expected Aurors to be knocking at her door.

  


“Astoria,” said Ron, “you know why I am here.”

  


Astoria Greengrass Malfoy nodded. “Yes. I'll go get my husband.” Her face loosened and her eyes grew sad.

  


“For what it's worth,” said Ron quietly, “I am very sorry.”

  


Astoria stood, looking right in Ron's eyes. Her nostrils flared and she swallowed hard. With a sharp turn, she retreated back into her house and was gone. Ron turned and glanced back at Harry and the other Aurors. The enchanted camera belonging to the _Prophet_ reporter flashed, snapping pictures.

  


Turning back around, Ron watched Draco approach the door, his wand in his hand. He opened his front door wider and stood, facing Ron. 

  


“I know why you're here,” said Draco loudly enough for everyone standing behind Ron to hear. He held out his wand, which Ron took, and stepped outside, closing his front door softly behind him. He put his hands in the air and waited. 

  


Ron flicked his wand and ropes appeared in midair and bound Draco's hands together. Ron lowered his voice and asked, “Does your son know you're being arrested today?”

  


“Yes, I asked my wife to do that now so he doesn't have to read about it in the papers.”

  


Ron nodded. “Let's go.” Raising his voice to its normal level, Ron continued, “Do you know your rights? You have the right to consult with a member of Magical Law Enforcement, to prepare a defense, and gather your wits. You have the right to plead guilty now and await a sentence from the Wizengamot. While you await either your trial or sentencing, you will be held in a cell within the depths of the Ministry. Do you, Draco Malfoy, understand your rights?”

  


“Yes.” 

  


“Then take him,” Ron said to the Aurors. “He awaits trial at the Ministry.”

The two Aurors next to Harry took hold of Draco and the three of them Disapparated. Ron stood looking at Harry.

  


“I hope we made the right decision,” he said.

  


“We did,” assured Harry. “Someone has to pay for these crimes.”

  


“But Draco--”

  


“Draco knows what he is doing, Ron,” said Harry firmly.

  


The little witch from the _Daily Prophet_ waddled over, her camera still levitating next to her. She had a self-inking quill and a pad of paper in her hands.

  


“I have some questions, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter. You're both the lead investigating Aurors on this case? You have charged Draco Malfoy with the murders? The readers of the _Prophet_ have a right to know the truth, sirs.”

  


Ron shook his head; he didn't want to answer any questions. He wanted to go home and to Hermione. It had been almost a week since they had made love, and suddenly, Ron wanted nothing more than to feel the comfort of her body surrounding him. This week, the case had really come together and now they were arresting Draco Malfoy. Ron knew Draco hadn't committed the murders, but his involvement was undeniable. Ron had such mixed feelings about the arrest and he wanted to go home to the one person who was always on his side no matter what the circumstances.

  


“We are not going to comment on this case,” said Harry. “We have made an arrest, yes, but right now the trial and all matters surrounding the investigation are completely sealed. Thank you.”

  


The witch jotted everything down and snapped a couple more photographs of Harry and Ron and then of Draco's house. She Disapparated with a small _pop._

  


“I'm going home,” said Ron. “You can handle this, right?”

  


“Yes.”

  


“Stress is bullshit.”

  


“I know you're stressed, but we're at the end, I can feel it.”

  


“I hope so. Well, I'll see you tomorrow at the office?”

  


“Tomorrow is Sunday,” said Harry. “I'll see you Monday.”

  


Ron nodded. “Right. Monday.” Ron handed over Draco's wand to Harry. “Take this to the office. You know what to do with it.” With a slight smile, Ron Disapparated home.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Before Rose knew it, it was time for the Halloween Feast. Somehow, she'd managed to suffer through all of October. The first Quidditch match was less than a week away and she was not prepared for it, the stress giving her a constant headache. Even though she was talking to her friends again, everything felt strained. No one mentioned Scorpius, which actually disappointed Rose. She wanted her friends to be interested in her romance. Her relationship with Scorpius was good, except they still hadn't managed to find time to share that first kiss. The other students at school seemed oblivious to Rose and Scorpius and probably wrote off their relationship as simple friendship. 

  


Rose entered the Great Hall and sat at the Gryffindor table across from Albus and Audrey. Pitchers of pumpkin juice were lined up on the table and all their plates were empty. The Halloween Feast was always one of Rose's favorites. She loved the pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns and the way the Great Hall somehow managed to smell just like autumn. 

  


“I'm starving,” said Audrey. She smiled at Rose. “You look pretty.”

  


“Oh!” Rose was surprised. “I do? I used that new hair potion this morning that Olivia made.”

  


“Yeah, your hair looks great.”

  


Rose couldn't help but smile back. “Thanks.” Sometimes Rose thought Audrey's compliments were overkill, but she knew Audrey was trying to get their friendship back on track.

Right before the feast was to begin, the Great Hall filled with owls. Mail delivery happened during breakfast, not dinner, and any other time of day, owls would usually find their recipients in their common rooms or dormitories. Having owls come at this time a day, in such a mass quantity, was disconcerting. Everyone began murmuring to one another, clearly confused. 

  


An owl dropped something a few seats down from her, in front of Hugo. Rose watched her brother unfold the papers.

  


“It's a special edition of the _Daily Prophet_ ,” said Rose. “That's really odd. Hey, Hugo! What's it say?”

  


Hugo craned his neck down the table and looked at Rose. “Er . . .” He looked back down at the newspaper. “Um . . .”

  


Albus and Audrey had their heads together, reading through a newspaper they had borrowed from one of the third-years sitting next to them. 

  


“What's it say?” asked Rose, looking at them.

  


“Er . . .” Albus muttered without looking up.

  


“I don't think you want to know,” said Audrey. “I can't believe it made a special edition of the _Prophet_ , though.”

  


“Why not?” asked Rose, suddenly alarmed. “Are my parents--?”

  


“No, no,” said Albus quickly. “They're fine. Our family is fine. It's just, er . . .”

  


Rose reached across the table and took the newspaper out of Albus' hand. He didn't resist, but he looked worried. She looked at the headline.

  


_**DRACO MALFOY ARRESTED OUTSIDE COUNTRY ESTATE** _

  


“Oh Merlin,” cried Rose. She scanned through the article. _Draco Malfoy, husband of Astoria Greengrasss Malfoy and father of Scorpius Malfoy . . . suspected in connection with a string of Muggle murders . . . arrested outside his home . . . long history of Dark magic . . . father was a Death Eater . . . awaiting trial . . . date yet to be set . . . all money and accounts frozen . . . wife forced to leave and go to relatives in France . . . son remains at Hogwarts where he is Head Boy and prefect for Slytherin House . . ._

  


Rose put the newspaper down. Her eyes immediately went to the Slytherin table, but the space between Magnus Higgs and Penny O'Reilly was empty. She hadn't seen Scorpius when she entered the Great Hall, so she figured he had already heard the news and didn't want to be surrounded by students.

  


“Are you going to find your boyfriend?” asked Albus.

  


Rose stood. “He's not my boyfriend. I'll see you lot later.”

  


She could feel eyes on her as he left the Great Hall. Students were still entering, ready for dinner, as she paused in the Entrance Hall. There were several places Scorpius could be, but Rose was certain he was outside, near the pitch. He liked to fly on his broom whenever he felt stressed or upset so it was the only logical explanation.

  


“Miss Weasley, where are you going?”

  


Rose turned and looked at Professor Longbottom. “I was going to the pitch. Y'know, practice for the upcoming game.”

  


Professor Longbottom shook his head. “You don't want to go to the Halloween Feast?”

  


“I do, but--” Rose sighed. “Did you see the _Daily Prophet_? There was a special edition that was just dropped off by a hundred owls to all the students who have subscriptions to the newspaper and it said Scorpius' dad was just arrested.”

  


“I know, I read it. It came to my office about thirty minutes ago.”

  


“Professor, Scorpius is my friend and I want to make sure he's okay.”

  


Professor Longbottom looked perplexed. “I don't want to tell you no, Miss Weasley, but are you certain you should be seeing Mr. Malfoy?”

  


“Why not? I'm his – er – best friend.”

  


“Didn't you read the article, too, Miss Weasley?”

  


“Yes.” Rose shook her head. “No. Not all of it.”

  


“Your father arrested Draco Malfoy.”

  


“ _What_?” Rose gasped. “That can't be true!”

“It is. You knew your father was investigating Draco, didn't you?”

  


“Yes, but I didn't know _he_ would be the Auror arresting him. Oh, god, Scorpius must hate me.”

  


“If he's your best friend, then he won't,” said Professor Longbottom soothingly. “But you know the rules, no wandering around the school grounds after dark. I saw you going for that door.”

  


“I know he's at the pitch, though. Please, Professor.”

  


Professor Longbottom winced. “Oh, Miss Weasley, I can't bend the rules just for you. Students are only allowed at the pitch after dark if they have written permission for Quidditch practice.”

  


“Professor, _please_.”

  


“I'm going in for the feast. I hope you join me or go back to the dormitories. If you choose to go outside, which is a clear violation of the school rules, then make sure you're back inside by midnight when the front doors are locked. If you're caught, I'll have to give you detention.”

  


“That's okay,” said Rose, “I'll go to the common room.”

  


Professor Longbottom gave her a look that clearly said he didn't believe her, but turned and went into the Great Hall. Rose waited until she was sure he was gone before pushing the doors open and going outside. The air was chilled and still as Rose walked across the grass and towards the pitch. She looked in the sky, but didn't see anyone flying around, yet she was still sure Scorpius was there. Everything was cast in a blue glow from the moon. 

  


Rose walked onto the pitch and saw a figure in the stands; she knew it was Scorpius. It took several minutes to walk up all the steps, but she soon joined Scorpius. He looked her way as she walked towards him, but he remained silent. Rose sat with him, flush against him. She felt the warmth of his body and also his rigidness. He was leaned over, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. 

  


“Do you hate me?” she asked.

  


He turned his head. “No. Why would I?”

  


“Because my dad arrested your dad?” Rose felt unexpected tears rise in her eyes. 

  


“ _You_ didn't arrest my dad, did you?”

  


“No.”

  


“Then, I'm not mad at you. And I could never hate you.” 

  


“Scorpius, I'm so--”

  


“Don't say you're sorry! I really don't want to hear it.” Scorpius sighed. “I don't want to talk about it.”

  


“Oh. D'you want me to go?”

  


“No, stay.” Scorpius took in a deep breath and then sighed again. “My dad didn't do it. He would never murder anyone. I don't believe it. I wish you believed me.”

  


“I believe you. If you don't think he did anything, then he didn't.” Rose said it, but she didn't really know if she believed it. She linked her arm through Scorpius' and felt his rigor melt slowly, slowly away. He sat up and turned, facing her. Rose turned herself and swung her leg over the bench so that she straddled it; Scorpius mimicked her and they were now facing one another and both silent. 

  


“I never really cared what anyone else thought of me before,” said Scorpius, “but it's only a matter of time before they know my dad was arrested.”

  


“I'm sure everyone knows by now. They've all read the _Daily Prophet_.”

  


“What?” Scorpius looked alarmed.

  


Rose narrowed her eyes. “How did you find out about your dad?”

  


“My mum owled me. I assumed your parents owled and that's how _you_ found out.”

  


Rose shook her head. “No, I read it in the newspaper. There was a special edition that came around dinnertime.”

  


Scorpius turned a light shade of green. “So everyone has read it, then?”

  


“You reckoned I had got an owl from my dad about it? It was in the paper. I'm really sorry. I thought you'd gotten the paper and that's why you were hiding.”

  


“I'm not hiding. I needed some quiet to think and be alone.”

  


“I understand.” Rose put her hands on Scorpius' knees. “What are you worried about? I mean, with the other kids at school?”

  


“I don't want to have to answer any questions. I'd rather my family's business remain private, but I know that's impossible now.”

  


“I won't tell anyone anything, if you don't want me to. I know my friends will ask questions, but I can keep my mouth shut.”

  


“Are you capable of that?”

  


Rose nodded. “For you I am.”

  


“Thanks.” Scorpius took hold of Rose's left wrist and gave it a slight pull, bringing her closer to him. Her eyes lowered for a moment to his mouth. “I really don't want to hear anyone talking about it,” said Scorpius and Rose lifted her eyes to look at him again.

  


“I wonder if I can make a jinx that will make everyone's voices silent if they mention it? I bet I could do it.”

  


Scorpius didn't smile, but Rose felt his eyes lighten just a bit. His one hand was still clasped around her wrist so he took his free one and placed it against her cheek, guiding her towards him. _This_ was the moment. Rose held her breath. Scorpius' mouth met hers, and the kiss was soft, sweet, and tentative. She bent her knees more, moving closer to him and deepening the kiss. Her heart beat in her throat and her palms were sweaty, but it felt so good. The corners of her mouth turned upwards as they continued to kiss. A sigh escaped from her throat and vibrated against Scorpius' mouth. 

  


He pulled away, but stayed close. He looked at her for a moment, as though asking silent permission to continue. Rose smiled and leaned in to kiss him again. This second kiss was deeper; it tasted like Scorpius, like passion. Rose breathed in deeply through her nose, smelling Scorpius' scent and pushing herself even closer to him. 

  


A bell sounded in the distance, and Rose and Scorpius broke apart.

  


“The bell,” breathed Scorpius.

“Curfew. Should we go back?”

  


“If we don't, we'll be stuck outside the doors.”

  


“And if we're caught sneaking back in the castle . . .”

  


“Then we'll be in trouble.”

  


“You're Head Boy.”

  


“You're the Head Boy's girlfriend.”

  


“Am I?”

  


“So it'll look terrible if we're caught.”

  


“So we mustn't be caught.”

  


“So the question is, Rose, do we go back or stay here?”

  


Rose answered with a kiss.

  


XXXXXXX

  


**To Be Continued . . .**

  


XXXXXXX


	7. Blue Uniforms

XXXXXXX

  


**Chapter Seven: Blue Uniforms**

  


XXXXXXX

  


_November 2023_

  


XXXXXXX

  


_Dear Scorpius,_

_I haven't heard from you in a few days and I'm worried. I know that news of your father's arrest has spread and I want to make sure everything at school is going well. Please ignore any of the students who give you a hard time._

_I stayed in France for a few days with my relatives there, but I felt pitied and out of place, so I returned home once things in the newspapers died down. Your father's arrest is no longer making the front-page. I hope you come home for Christmas. I cannot wait to see you._

_I have been given a warning that I should keep a low profile, and not stir up any trouble. Hopefully by not leaving the house, I will be able to maintain this “low profile.” You know me, though, and I am certainly not one to stir up trouble; I prefer a quiet life. However, I am taking this warning very seriously and it needs to extend to you as well. I know you are Head Boy and because of that you are given a certain amount of respect and most everyone at Hogwarts knows your name. I know it will be difficult, but you need to isolate yourself. These people your father has become caught up with may try to use your friends to get to you. I believe they think you and I know things about your father's business. I don't know anything and I know you don't either, but they may not accept that as truth._

_Sometimes you talk of Magnus when you are home, so please distance yourself from him. I know you are close mates and even if you have to tell him why you are keeping to yourself, just do it. It would be a shame for these Dark wizards to think they can find out who your friends are and take advantage of that. If you are still seeing Ada, I think you should cool things down until the situation with your father has settled._

_Please destroy this letter once you've read it._

_I love you, son. I am very proud of you and proud of the man you are becoming. I know you will do the right thing._

_With Love,_

_Mum_

  


Rose reread the letter once more before handing it back to Scorpius. “So, does this mean you are breaking up with me?” The tone of her voice was light and surprisingly she felt very calm.

  


“No.” Scorpius shook his head. 

  


They sat together underneath a large tree on the far side of the lake. It was cool outside, but not quite cold. Both Rose and Scorpius had finished their last class of the day, but had three hours before dinner, giving them a double break. Scorpius had taken his books outside to study while Rose took her sketchbook and pencils. In the past couple of weeks, they had found a rhythm together. Scorpius studied and Rose made Quidditch plays or drew, with an occasional glance at her books. Rose was quiet while Scorpius read. He would subtly stroke the back of her hand, his eyes never leaving his book, or run his fingers through her hair as he took a quiet break to look over her shoulder at her pictures. In between the quiet they talked, just as they always had, but Rose knew how important Scorpius thought his studies were – she understood it and did her part to help.

  


“No?” asked Rose, looking up at the bare tree branches. “I don't understand.”

  


“We are going to have to keep our relationship a secret,” said Scorpius. “If my mother is worried enough to write me this kind of letter then I think I should listen to her. I don't know who my father is caught up with, but it's bad enough that he was arrested. I wouldn't want anyone to come after you just because they think I may know something.”

  


“How will we keep it a secret?”

  


“I don't know exactly. Don't talk about me to your friends and I won't talk about you to mine. We'll have to meet in places like this, where most people won't be able to see us together. We'll avoid one another in the corridors and in class if at all possible.”

  


“That sounds awful.”

  


“I agree, but my mother's worries are now my worries. I think it'll be safest. There's a Hogsmeade visit coming up again in two weeks. When everyone else goes, we can stay behind – perhaps you can come to my dormitory for a while. No one will be there. Then we'll have a chance to be alone for a few hours.”

  


“Oh wow,” said Rose, a bit breathlessly. “I'd definitely like to see where you sleep.”

  


Scorpius smirked. “Dream about being in my bed, do you?”

  


“Absolutely,” said Rose.

  


Rose kissed Scorpius quietly and then settled in next to him, leaning on his chest. He put his arm around her and with a flick of his wand, levitated his schoolbook right at eye-level so he could more easily read. Rose closed her eyes and allowed herself to be still and breathe in the smells of Scorpius. If they were going to have to keep everything a secret, then she would have to steal moments like this from now on.

  


“Should I tell my friends we've broken it off?” asked Rose.

  


“I think so.”

  


“What should I tell them when they ask why?”

  


“It doesn't matter.”

  


“We should be on the same page.”

  


“All right. . . .” Scorpius paused and Rose knew he was thinking of his answer. “Tell them that I needed more time to study and I ignored you because I was always doing schoolwork and I will tell my friends that you distracted me and I wanted to study more so I will get top marks on all my N.E.W.T.s.”

  


“That's perfect,” said Rose. “They'll believe that for sure. I'll have a really hard time ignoring you, though. I don't know if I can stop looking at you altogether.”

  


“That will be the hardest part for me, too. My eyes always seem to find you, even when you're across the room.”

  


Rose sat up and looked at Scorpius. She had a lot of things she wanted to say, but nothing escaped her mouth. She moved over him, sitting on his thighs, her knees on either side of his hips. Her hands gripped Scorpius' school tie, pulling him to her until their lips met. He groaned and tangled his fingers in his hair. A rather loud _plop_ sounded beside them. Rose broke apart for a moment, startled.

  


“My book,” said Scorpius, staring at Rose's mouth. “My spell broke when I lost my concentration.”

  


“Oh, sorry.”

  


“Never apologize if you're going to kiss me like  _that_ again.”

Instead of answering, Rose kissed him again. Scorpius took his hand, guided Rose's hair to the side, and kissed from her jawline to her ear and then along her neck. Rose felt something against her leg, so she reached down to feel it. Scorpius broke away from their kiss and grabbed her hand.

  


“Don't start anything you can't finish,” said Scorpius.

  


Rose felt her cheeks flush. “Oops. Sorry, I didn't realize . . . do I make you feel like that a lot?”

  


“Yes, every time we're together.” Scorpius looked completely unapologetic. 

  


“That's so cool.”

  


Scorpius laughed. “Cool?”

  


“Of course!” said Rose, rather defensively. “I think it's really cool that I make you feel like that.”

  


“How do I make you feel?”

  


“Really hot . . . sometimes tingly . . . restless,” she said, her voice lowering and her eyes looking away from Scorpius, “like I need you to touch me.”

  


“Don't be embarrassed.” Scorpius reached underneath Rose's chin to lift it up so she would look at him. “You shouldn't ever be embarrassed about anything you tell me, all right? I wouldn't judge you on anything you say to me.”

  


Rose smiled brightly. 

  


“Wait,” said Scorpius as Rose tried to kiss him again, “look at the time.” He held out his arm so Rose could see his wristwatch. “Don't you have a last minute practice before the first Quidditch match tomorrow?”

  


Rose looked at the watch. “ _Shit_! Practice is in twenty minutes and all my gear is up in my dorm.”

  


“Didn't you take Charms when you were a fourth-year?”

  


“What? Yes, of course I did. Why--?”

  


“ _Accio Rose's Quidditch gear!_ ”

  


“Oh, right . . . Well, since we're distancing ourselves, will I see you after the match tomorrow?”

  


“I don't know. Maybe. If you do, tell me who wins, all right?”

  


“What? Aren't you going?”

  


“No, I need to study.”

  


“But it's Gryffindor versus Slytherin – that's _your_ House.”

  


“I know, but--”

  


“And Gryffindor is _my_ house.”

  


“Yes, and--”

  


“You should watch me play.”

  


“I want to,” said Scorpius, “but I don't really study a lot when I'm around you. You're very distracting. Don't get me wrong, I like the distraction, I just don't get a lot of studying done. I'm falling behind in Potions.”

  


“You are not,” said Rose. “I saw your last exam. You got an E.”

  


“An E is not as good as an O. Why is it such a big deal?”

  


Rose's Quidditch gear plopped down on the grass next to her. She stood and picked everything up. “I don't know exactly. I just want to feel as though you support me and the things that are important to me. I mean, I haven't really decided what I want to do after school is finished, but I've been considering trying out for one of the professional teams . . . so it'd be nice if my boyfriend would come watch me play.”

  


Scorpius sighed. “I'm going to give up Hogsmeade next weekend to spend the whole day with you when I could choose to spend the whole day studying, so I need tomorrow to study instead.”

  


Rose didn't even want to try to understand Scorpius' point of view; she wanted to just be pissed off that her boyfriend didn't want to watch her play Quidditch. She grabbed her Quidditch gear and stalked off towards the pitch.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Astoria sat on her sofa in front of the fire, warming her bare hands and feet. She had two books in her lap. One was a classical wizarding novel and the other was a magical journal. The journal was a passageway between her and Draco. Whatever she wrote in the journal, appeared in an identical book that Draco had with him in jail. The same went for Draco's journal; whatever he wrote appeared in front of Astoria. Draco always wrote her after his supper, around half past seven and she felt so close to him in the evenings. It was dangerous for her to visit him and this was the longest they'd been separated since the day they met.

  


Earlier that day, Astoria's sister Daphne had sent an owl, telling her all the reasons she should leave Draco. The arrest had been public and the newspapers ripped Draco's character apart, which Astoria found _very_ annoying because none of the by-lines were by anyone Draco even knew personally.

  


Daphne thought Astoria was going to waste away her beauty with someone who would never come home, who would spend the rest of his life stripped of his powers and wasting away in a prison cell. Astoria knew she was attractive and if she wanted to find another wizard, she surely could, but what Daphne never seemed to understand was that Astoria didn't _want_ to find another wizard. She would never love anyone other than Draco and she would wait fifty years for him to get out of prison if she had to. By then her beauty would have wasted away and she would be a different-looking witch, but she'd be the same person, the same person who loved her husband.

  


Astoria had a glass of red raspberry wine sitting on the end table to her right. She drank half of it in one long, continuous sip before sitting on the sofa to wait for Draco to write to her. The journals were a great find for him. He often went to both Muggle and wizarding estate sales to see what treasures he could find. It took several experiments before Draco and Astoria figured out just how special the journals were.

  


_Are you there, A?_

  


Astoria couldn't help but smile as her husband's thin writing appeared on the page before her. She picked up her self-inking quill that was next to her wine glass on the table and began to write.

  


_**You always ask and I'm always here.**_

  


_How was your day? What did you do? Have you spoken to Scorpius?_

  


_**My day was quiet. I tried mixing a new potion for the flowers outside – they're wilting from the cold weather. I am hoping to make something so that they'll stay in bloom all year. I know there's temporary spells that can do that, but then you have to always check that the spells are holding up. I also made a list of all the Christmas shopping I need to do. I have written to Scorpius a few times, but have only heard back from him once. He is doing well as Head Boy. He did say that he has finally stopped seeing that awful Ada witch. I abhorred her.**_

  


_Of course you did. Ravenclaws cannot be trusted._

  


_**I think Ravenclaws say the same about Slytherins.** _

  


_You're probably right. It sounds as though you had a nice day. I'm glad._

  


_**How is jail? Is Potter treating you fairly? I told him I would curse his children if he did anything to you.** _

  


__ _Potter is fine so far. He's still an arrogant arsehole, but he lives by the law, so he hasn't done anything to warrant cursing his children. I'll be sure to tell you if he does. I miss you terribly._

  


_**I miss you, too. It's very lonely in this house. I never realized how big it was until it was empty. Scorpius will be home for the holidays and we will come visit you on Christmas, if Potter allows it. I hope Scorpius will let himself to relax a bit. Whenever he's home, he does nothing but study.** _

  


_He's going to be very successful, I know, I can feel it. I'm proud of him. It's miserable thinking that he can't be proud of his father. Sons should always respect and be proud of their fathers and want to be like them when they're young._

  


Before Astoria could reply, there was a knock at her front door. She wavered, not sure if she should see who was ringing her. None of her friends knew of her return home and her sister had said in her owl she never wanted to see Astoria again. She looked at the quill in her hand and immediately decided that whoever was at the door was nowhere near as important as the man on the other side of her journal.

  


_**One day Scorpius will**_

  


Before Astoria could finish writing, there was an explosion from the other room. She jumped up, her quill falling to the floor and her wine glass landing next to it with a crash. Her heart stopped in the middle of her throat as she grabbed her wand and pointed it at the door to her sitting room. Adrenaline raced through her body, making her lightheaded. Something was very, very wrong.

  


The door swung open, but before Astoria could see who was on the other side, she sent a stunning spell towards doorway. A silent Shield Charm deflected her curse and it ricocheted to the left, knocking all her photographs off the wall. Astoria flicked her wand, encasing herself in a bubble. Her free hand grasped her wand hand, steadying it. Spells hit her Shield, trying to get through, and her whole body vibrated with the force of each curse as she tried with all her strength to hold her charm up.

  


Her eyes spun around the room. Three wizards had entered her home, each of them dirty and nasty. One had a patch over one eye and a scar that ran down the side of his face. Another only had three fingers on one hand and a strange sort of limp, as though one of his feet were made of lead. The last one was good-looking, but covered in dirt and sweat, with a snarl that Astoria was fairly sure was permanent. 

  


Finally, the three wizards sent spells simultaneously and Astoria's charm broke, sending her wand flying across the room as she fell backwards, hitting her head against the stone fireplace. She moaned as spots appeared in front of her eyes. A rough hand grabbed her upper arm and pulled her to her feet.

  


“Where is she?” the good-looking one asked, his voice raspy in her ear.

  


“Who?” asked Astoria, more frightened than she'd ever been before.

  


The one-eyed wizard swished his wand and Astoria's head flew to the side with such a force that it almost knocked her out; it felt as though someone had punched her, only it was a curse.

  


“The _girl_.”

  


Astoria looked up at the wizard who held her arm. She blinked several times, trying to get him in focus. She shook her head, confusion flooding her mind. If one of them was a Legilimens, she wanted to make sure they would understand just how little she actually knew.

  


“Billy, maybe she don't know where the girl is,” said the one-eyed wizard.

  


“Shut up, Henley!” rasped Billy, the wizard who held Astoria. “Yer husband, what do he know?”

  


“Nothing! He doesn't know anything! He was arrested because the Ministry thinks he's responsible.”

  


“We know he's bin arrested. But we don't know what he's tellin' those Aurors now that he's in jail, now do we?”

  


“He's not telling them anything, I swear. They truly think he's guilty and he's keeping his mouth shut!”

  


“That's 'bout the dumbest thing we ever heard, innit? Why would anyone who ain't guilty let 'imself be arrested an' not try an' get out?” Billy touched his wand to Astoria's bare arm; she felt her flesh burn.

  


“Because he thinks if he takes the fall then no one will come after his family!” she cried, flinching at the pain in her arm, but trying to remain as calm as possible. She needed to keep her head on straight so that she wouldn't say something she may later regret.

  


“That don't sound like proper logic ter me.”

  


Astoria didn't know what to say. Her mind immediately went to Scorpius and Draco, thinking of them together, and choking on the memories as they melted into visions of both of them being tortured and murdered by the three men before her. She would tell them anything to keep her family safe. 

  


“Make 'er stop coughin',” said the wizard named Henley.

  


“She's upset,” said Billy softly. He let go of Astoria's arm. She fell to the floor and Billy bent down next to her, his lips touching her ear as he spoke. “She's worried 'bout her boy, ain't yeh? Worried that we'll go after 'im next, see what 'e knows. But if she knows what's best, she'll talk so we can leave 'er kid alone.”

  


“I don't know what to tell you! If you tell me who you're talking about, then maybe I'll know something.” Astoria hiccuped and tasted the salt from her tears on her lips. She'd barely realized she'd been crying. “My husband is going to keep his mouth shut if he knows anything – but he doesn't know anything, I promise! He tells me everything and I don't know anything! _Please_ leave my son alone. You can take me and do your will, but leave my son _alone_.”

  


“That sounded like a threat,” said Billy. “I don' think you know who yer dealin' with.”

  


“She doesn't,” said the three-fingered wizard.

  


Astoria looked up at him. It was the first time he'd spoken; he had an American accent. He licked his lips and Astoria jumped. His teeth were long and pointed, the vein in his neck was thick and pulsed as blood coursed through him. Astoria had never met a vampire before, but she'd read about them, heard stories. They were given some rights under Ministry law, but they were carefully monitored because they were so dangerous. Many Dark wizards employed them as muscle. By nature, they were the most powerful Legilimens in the world and had the power of Influence.

  


“Oh, are you afraid of me? I feed off terror.”

Astoria's eyes widened and her body began to shake. “You – you're . . . you're In-Influencing me.”

  


“She knows her text books.” The vampire held a wand and twirled it between his fingers. “That fear you're feeling is me. I can take all your emotions and intensify them, Influence you to feel whatever I choose. Do you like it?”

  


Astoria shook her head.

  


“You're a beautiful witch. Do you know who I work for?”

  


Astoria shook her head again.

  


“Yer makin' her shake,” said Henley, an excited tone to his voice, “see 'er?”

  


“Shut it,” snapped Billy.

  


“What's your name?” asked the vampire.

  


“A-Astoria,” she whispered.

  


“Astoria. Lovely. Astoria, do you know who I work for? I work for no one. The wizard who commands these two is not the boss I listen to. He provides me with things that are not so easy for me to get on my own. Vampires are not allowed to carry wands, for instance. Still, we have a mutual agreement. He helps me, I help him, but I am my own boss. He has commanded these inferior--”

  


“Will yeh _stop_ callin' us inferiors?” yelled Billy.

  


“--inferior wizards not to kill you until you've given them the information they want, but I do not care about what he wants. If I want to kill you, I will. One thing you may not have read about vampires in your books is that we do not have the ability to feel remorse. Therefore, I can kill you and not feel badly. I can make you watch while I kill your son, your sister, and I still will not feel anything. So before you lay there in a shaking heap on the floor, saying you don't know anything, think about that.”

  


Astoria blinked, drinking in all those words.

  


“Now, do you know where the girl is?”

  


Astoria closed her eyes, letting several tears escape, and shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “I don't know anything. I promise, please. You can read my mind, I know you can, so do it and then you'll know I honestly don't know anything. Just _leave my son alone_.”

  


The vampire glided across the sitting room and placed his hand around Astoria's neck. His grip was loose and cold, but suddenly a white-hot flash went through Astoria's body. It was a pain she'd never experienced before. Her skin felt as though it would burn right off her body. She tried to push away all the thoughts she didn't want the vampire to see. The heat grew in intensity; she was sure she'd burn straight to ashes. It blinded her, deafened her. Then, suddenly, there was no more heat, no more pain, no more thoughts – and no more anything.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Rose tapped her quill against her knee. “What d'you think of just skipping all our examinations before the holidays and leaving for home early?”

  


Both Albus and Roxanne looked up from their books. They were studying in the library – although Rose knew the term “studying” wasn't exactly truth. Albus and Roxanne worked on Charms, while Audrey studied Transfiguration. Rose doodled on her parchment and daydreamed about the Quidditch match they'd lost almost a week before. It was after dinner, so close to the very end of the day that Rose was having trouble thinking about school work, especially since it was Friday and she could sleep in the next morning and not have to think about schoolwork.

  


“You know, sometimes when you talk, you sound so serious that you make me nervous,” said Audrey, keeping her eyes on her textbook. “I almost think you're serious when you talk about skiving off tests.”

  


“I'd skive off every class if I thought I could get away with it. I wish I could drop out of school. What d'you think of the Appleby Arrows?”

  


“Now we're talking about Quidditch?” moaned Roxanne. “Can't you _please_ focus on studying? Or if you're not going to study, focus on keeping your mouth shut so I _can_? These charms are the most difficult magic I've ever seen. I was mad to ever sign up for the class, and you're making it worse.”

  


“Wow,” said Rose. “Sorry. Thought you'd be interested that their Captain sent me an owl--” Rose stopped mid-sentence as Scoripus walked into the library with two of his friends and sat down at an empty table near her. He glanced her way for the briefest of moments and Rose _almost_ thought she saw him wink. Immediately after he sat down, he attracted the attention of Ada Fenwick, who was also studying. She pranced over to his table, one hand on her hip. She tossed her hair and smiled widely.

  


“Hello, there, Scorpius,” she said rather loudly for the library. “Why aren't you studying with your girlfriend?”

  


“I don't have a girlfriend,” replied Scorpius, opening one of his books and looking completely disinterested in Ada. 

  


Ada looked genuinely surprised. Rose kept her gaze towards Scorpius' table, but she did notice that Albus, Audrey, and Roxanne were also watching.

  


“Really? When did you break up?”

  


“Break up with who?”

  


“Roser Weasley.”

  


Rose frowned. _My name is ROSE_ , she thought, completely irritated. 

  


“Rose? She was never my girlfriend. You shouldn't listen to rumors, Ada. Gossip is ugly. Besides, I don't have time for a girlfriend, as you well know. Can I please study?”

  


“Well, if you want any help, you know where to find me. I'd be happy to help you in any subject.”

  


Rose looked down at her parchment. Ada Fenwick was a nasty witch. 

  


“Are you all right?” asked Audrey, leaning across the table to pat Rose's hand.

  


“I'm fine,” murmured Rose, pretending to be more upset than she actually was. It was hard to lie to her friends about her relationship with Scorpius, but she also understood the importance of it. “Actually, I think I'm going to go back to the dormitory. I need some time alone.” 

  


“Are you sure?” asked Audrey. “If you really need someone to talk to, I can--”

  


“No, no, please study. I know you guys want to finish your homework before Hogsmeade tomorrow. It's fine. I'd rather be alone.” Rose gave them a smile. She gathered up her scrap pieces of parchment and her quill and shoved them in her bag. She noticed a small piece of crumpled-up parchment inching its way across the library floor towards her. Rose looked quickly around, but no one was paying any attention. She snatched the paper as she stood, adjusting her bag across her shoulder.

  


“I'll see you soon,” said Audrey.

  


“I may be asleep,” said Rose. “Headache. G'night.”

  


She quickly made her exit, only slowing down when she rounded the corner. As she stepped onto the moving staircase that would take her upstairs to Gryffindor Tower, Rose opened the note.

  


_Meet me at ten o'clock in the dungeons by the Potions storeroom. I'll show you how to sneak into my dormitory and then we'll have the entire day together._

  


Rose grinned and felt like skipping the rest of the way to her dormitory.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Draco tore apart his cell. He ripped the sheets off his bed, ripped up all the pages in his book, and began banging his fists against the walls. The door was an invisible shield and everything in the room repelled magic, so even if he had a wand it wouldn't work in this little room.

  


“GET ME POTTER!” Draco screamed. He'd never screamed like that before. He'd yelled, hollered, but never screamed. There was desperation in his voice, terror. His body shook in such a way that he thought he might actually explode.

  


Finally, after over an hour of screaming, Potter appeared in the hallway. His hair was rumpled and he wore pajamas and a robe. His feet were bare. With a wave of his wand, he lowered the shield in front of Draco.

  


“Get out here.”

  


Draco walked out of the cell and stood in front of Harry. 

“The guard who watches this row of cells woke me up in the middle of the goddamn night to tell me one of my prisoners would not stop yelling.” Harry pointed his wand at Draco's throat. “D'you want to tell me what the _fuck_ your problem is?”

  


Draco almost laughed; he'd never heard Potter swear like that before. And then, laughter escaped his mouth. He was laughing out of desperation. 

“I can't here,” he said in a low whisper. “Somewhere else.”

  


“I'm going to make sure you get the Kiss, I swear to Merlin.”

  


“I'm sorry I ruined your sleep, but this is more important.”

  


“It wasn't sleep you were interrupting,” snarled Harry. “Let's go to my office.”

  


“Wait, I need to get something first.” Draco quickly grabbed his journal, handed it over and then walked in front of Harry, who bound his hands with magical ropes. He knew the way to Harry's office and walked there quickly. As soon as he got inside, Harry undid the binds around Draco's hands.

“What is this?” Harry looked at the journal, flipping through its pages. “I've heard of these before . . . they're a pair, right? Whatever you write in your half appears in the other journal as well, and then whatever the other person writes appears in your pages.”

  


“Yes.” Draco paced around the room. “Astoria and I write every night. It's the only way I can talk to her.” Draco looked pointedly at Harry.

  


“I can't imagine what it would be like to not talk to or see Ginny and I do apologize, but the procedure is--”

  


“No contact with the outside world, I know the law.”

  


“Yes,” said Harry.

  


“Read the last page.” Draco turned away from Harry. He knew what the last page of his journal looked like:

  


_**One day Scorpius will**_

  


__ _One day Scorpius will what?_

  


_What's going on with Scorpius?_

  


_Astoria, what are you doing?_

  


_ASTORIA! You're worrying me._

  


_It's been thirty minutes, what the hell are you doing?_

  


_A S T O R I A !_

  


_It's been an hour. I'm going to send Potter after you, I swear to Merlin I am._

  


“She stopped writing in the middle of her sentence. One of Gallows' men has her. She's probably a prisoner – or dead. You got me into this mess, you get Astoria out of it. She's completely innocent.”

  


“Unlike you.”

“No, I am not innocent, but you know well as I do that I'm not guilty either. You're supposed to be full of decency and honor, so go help my wife. Now.”

  


Harry looked at Draco and nodded. “Is she still in France?”

  


“No, she's at home.”

  


“All right. Go back to your cell.”

  


“I should go with you, there's--”

  


“You're a prisoner, Malfoy. You're waiting for your trial to start. I am not letting you out of the Ministry. Take this,” said Harry, handing Draco back his journal. “I'll write you in that if I find it at your house.”

  


“Don't tell anyone,” said Draco. “The more people know, the more danger she'll be in. I don't want them thinking the Ministry is after them.”

  


“I'll take Ron. Don't look at me like that, Malfoy, I'm going to need back up. Hopefully, he won't be in the middle of shagging his wife when I Floo him.”

  


Draco didn't feel at all guilty for interrupting Harry. He walked back to his cell and began picking up his sheets and blankets. Harry stood in the doorway for a moment, hesitating.

  


“Why aren't you going?” demanded Draco, holding a pillow in one hand and page three-hundred-eighty-two from his book in the other.

  


“Do you want me to give you a Sleeping Draught? Otherwise, you're going to make yourself mad.”

  


“No, I want to know immediately what you find at my house.”

  


“All right, but if you start screaming like a bloody lunatic again, I'm going to instruct my guards to take you out of your cell and Stun you.” Harry put the charms back on the doorway of Draco's cell and quickly walked out of the cell block. 

  


Draco sat on his bed and did something he hadn't done since his days at Hogwarts: he cried.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Rose feigned a headache again the next morning, telling her friends she was simply too sick to go to Hogsmeade. The guilt didn't last long because once they were gone, her thoughts immediately turned to the dungeons. She walked quickly towards the student storeroom. Scorpius was already there, waiting for her. He held a finger to his lips, letting her know to be silent. As soon as she reached him, he tapped her head with his wand. A cold sensation trickled down her back. 

  


“Disillusionment Charm,” he whispered. He nodded for her to follow him. He moved slowly, stopping only when passing other students from his House on their way towards the front doors to leave for Hogsmeade.

  


Once inside the Slytherin common room, Rose felt more relaxed. She was so close to Scorpius' dormitory and at that time, she could take off this charm and finally get to kiss him. The common room was devoid of students. Rose noticed how everything was green and from the windows, it looked as though it might actually be underneath the lake.

  


The stairs that led up to the boys' dormitories were steeper than the staircase in her House. They spiraled with such sharp turns that Rose began to grow dizzy.

  


“Sorry,” said Scorpius, “my dormitory is the very top one.” 

  


The staircase ended and Rose followed Scorpius through a door marked SEVENTH-YEAR BOYS. The dormitory was square and very organized. All the beds were made, the curtains pulled back. The floor looked swept and the windows sparkled.

  


“Did you clean just for me?” asked Rose as Scorpius lifted his Disillusionment Charm.

  


“Yes.”

  


Rose responded by kissing Scorpius. She sighed into his mouth as she opened his mouth with her tongue. After a moment, she broke the kiss and stepped back.

“You missed my Quidditch game.”

  


“Yes, but – don't interrupt! – I was able to finish my homework for the next three weeks, so now I can spend all of today with you and tomorrow, too, if we can find a place where no one will find us. If I'd gone to your match, then I'd have been watching you, but I wouldn't be talking to you or interacting with you. That's more important.”

  


Rose couldn't really argue with that, but she still wanted her boyfriend to come to her games. “Quidditch is important to me, so maybe you can try to come to at least one match this year?”

  


Scorpius nodded. “Sure. . . .”

  


“The captain of the Appleby Arrows owled me.”

  


“Oh?” Scorpius sat down on what Rose assumed was his bed, and began to unlace his shoes. “What'd he say?”

  


“That he saw me play and even though my team lost, it was only by ten points since we caught the Snitch when we were down one-hundred-sixty points. He wanted me to know that he has scouted a couple of my games in the past years and wants me to consider signing with his team when I'm finished with school. Official tryouts are at the end of May and he wants me to come.”

  


Scorpius' eyes were wide and his mouth open. “That's amazing. I'm so proud of you. Come here.”

  


Rose crossed the room and stood in front of Scorpius. He pulled her to him and kissed her hard.

  


“I told you that you were one of the best bloody Beaters in the world.”

  


Rose grinned. “You're the first person I've told. I wasn't sure how I felt about it.”

  


“Not sure?” exclaimed Scorpius. “Are you mad? You've said all along you thought you wanted to play professionally.”

  


“No, silly. I wasn't sure how I felt about Appleby. Really, my dreams have always lain with the Harpies, simply because it's an all-female team. Appleby has had a decent record the last couple years. It's not even for the reserve team, either. It'd be on the official team.” Rose couldn't help but smile. “You can kiss me again.”

  


Scorpius grinned and kissed her. Rose kicked off her shoes and moved to the middle of Scorpius' bed. She lay down and pulled him with her. The weight of his body on top of hers felt amazing. She hooked one of her legs around his, pulling him even closer. His kisses were still soft and his hands began to wander. He placed his fingers against her skin underneath her t-shirt and lightly squeezed the skin there. 

  


Rose giggled. “That tickles!” She pushed against Scorpius until she was sitting up. Scorpius leaned up on his elbows, still grinning. Rose faced him and kissed him again; she couldn't help herself. She felt his arms curl around her waist and with one swift movement, she found herself on Scorpius' lap. She couldn't seem to be close enough to him, couldn't seem to kiss him enough. Since they had to hide their relationship from everyone, they had to create time together, which was very difficult in a school like Hogwarts – _especially_ when Rose's boyfriend was Head Boy and insisted on studying forty hours a week.

  


Scorpius pulled away. “You're going to have to tell me when to stop,” he said, tucking Rose's hair behind her ears.

  


“Why?” she breathed, not wanting his mouth so far away from hers. 

  


“Because if you don't tell me, I won't stop.”

  


Rose laughed softly. “Oh, I understand. I don't know . . . how far do we want to go?”

  


Scorpius shrugged. “That's your call.”

  


“Well . . . what've you done with your other girlfriends?”

  


Scorpius shook his head. “I don't have any other girlfriends, just you.”

  


“I mean the ones in the past, your exes.”

  


Scorpius continued shaking his head. “No, I am not telling you that.”

  


“Why not? If we were older, I'd assume you'd done everything, but we're still only seventeen, so you could've done everything or nothing.”

  


“I haven't done everything,” replied Scorpius slowly, “but I have done more than nothing.”

  


“You're being very cryptic.”

  


Scorpius flopped backwards on his bed, placing his hands behind his head. He looked up at the ceiling and let out a disgruntled sigh. 

  


“What's wrong?”

  


Scorpius didn't respond immediately. Rose lay down beside him. He moved one of his arms from behind his head and wrapped it around Rose's shoulder, bringing her closer to him.

  


“Ada was the first girl I dated for longer than just a couple weeks. She's been rather horrible lately, but she wasn't so bad when we were going together. She asked me the same questions you are now, only I gave her the answers. She got jealous whenever she saw me talking to someone I had kissed. I don't want that to happen again.”

  


“I can understand that,” said Rose truthfully, although she liked to think she would react differently. Honestly, she didn't know if she would. Laying there, thinking about it, she didn't like the idea of Scorpius being with any other girl, even if all he did was kiss her. She liked to think of him as hers alone.

  


“If you played for the Appleby Arrows, I would tell everyone you were my girlfriend. There's no way I could keep that a secret.”

  


“You wouldn't be threatened by my success?”

  


Scorpius sniggered. “No, because I'd be just as successful in my new job at the Ministry.”

  


“Oh really? You think you'll be successful right away? Most wizards have to work their way up, yeah?”

  


“Not me,” said Scorpius. “I'm Head Boy already and I plan on getting top marks on my N.E.W.T.s. I don't really think that will be a problem; I'm very clever.”

  


“You're so arrogant sometimes.”

  


“I am honest. I don't plan on starting at the bottom. I won't be able to start as the head of a department, but I doubt I'll be filling parchments and files in the Archives Department as my first job either.”

  


“Maybe you're right, but I plan on wearing a blue uniform while you work your desk job.”

  


“Blue uniform?” repeated Scorpius. “What about the Harpies?”

  


“Their captain hasn't sent me an owl. I'd play for the Cannons if it meant playing professionally. It's one of the few things I can imagine doing with my life that won't drive me mad.”

  


“Then you should do it.”

  


“With you studying so much and us pretending we're not together, I'll have plenty of time to practice my flying, won't I?”

  


“Yes, about that . . .”

  


“About what?”

  


“The pretending we're not together,” said Scorpius. “Right now we don't have to pretend, when it's just the two of us together.”

  


Rose grinned. “We should definitely take advantage of this . . . and we are talking entirely too much.”

  


“I agree.” 

  


Scorpius took hold of Rose's hips and moved her over so that she was on top of him. His fingers tangled in her hair, gently guiding her head down towards his. They kissed and kissed. The room was still, their kisses quiet. Rose imagined she could hear everything, from his fingers running across her bare stomach, to the beat of his heart against her chest. She let him touch her in places and ways she'd never let any other boy touch her before. They became engrossed in themselves, the time passing them by, and when it was over, when the day had ended, they parted ways with reluctance.

  


XXXXXXX

  


**To Be Continued . . .**

  
XXXXXXX


	8. Crisp White Parchment

XXXXXXX

  


**Chapter Eight: Crisp White Parchment**

  


XXXXXXX

  


_December 2023_

  


XXXXXXX

  


Rose looked at herself in the mirror. She thought herself strange-looking; she didn't have one particular look. She knew she was a pretty girl – not beautiful, but pretty. Her hair was long and thick, somewhere in between curly and straight, and it was also a cross of her parents' hair colors, a mix of both brown and red. Her skin had freckles, but wasn't pale like her father's. She was taller than average, but didn't consider her height to be especially tall in general. While she was clever and talented, she wasn't the cleverest, or the _most_ talented. There were many good things about her, but sometimes she had trouble finding out what exactly made Scorpius so interested in her. 

  


Normally she only got this contemplative when she and Scorpius had a fight. In the short time they had been together, they had bickered several times. It was never anything major, just their personalities clashing. Scorpius was so _serious_  and she was more playful. It could create tension. Before breakfast, they'd met on the fourth-floor corridor, in a small nook behind a suite of armor. They'd begun to bicker about something so inane that Rose couldn't even think what it was even about.

  


“Why d'we do this?” Rose had asked, shaking her head.

  


“It's a waste of time and time is not something we have a lot of.”

  


“Our personalities are so different. . . .”

  


Scorpius nodded. “Yes. It makes me wonder what we'll be like together when Hogwarts is behind us.”

  


Rose blinked, unsure what to say, yet relishing the warmth that flooded her body at the realization that Scorpius had thought about their future.

  


“I haven't decided if there will be more time to be together or less. I'll have a decidedly good job at the Ministry and you'll play Quidditch.”

  


“Yes, but by that time we won't have to be so secretive so being together won't be so hard, yeah?”

  


“Why do you have that look on your face?”

  


Rose clamped her mouth shut and tried to make her face blank. She shrugged.

  


Scorpius pushed her very lightly so that the back of her knees hit the wall behind her. He pressed his body against hers, softly kissing her mouth. He kissed her jaw and then her neck.

  


“Why do you look so surprised?” he asked in her ear.

  


“Didn't – didn't know you thought about a future with me.”

  


Scorpius pulled back and looked at her, his eyes staring straight into hers. “Do you not think about one with me?”

  


Rose nodded and shrugged at the same time. “I do, but I don't like to think too much about stuff like that. I'm afraid I'll inadvertently curse myself somehow, like get all my hopes up and then we breakup and--”

  


“Why would we breakup? Are you planning on ending things with me?”

  


“No. So you're not planning on ending things with me either?”

  


“Not a chance.”

  


“Never?”

  


“Right now, it's not something I see myself doing – ever. Can you shut it now so we can touch each other before we go to breakfast and classes?”

  


Now, Rose looked at herself in the mirror, thinking about hours earlier, behind that suit of armor. Her reflection smiled back at her. Scorpius' words to her made their bickering seem so inconsequential, so small in the grand scheme of their relationship.

  


The door to the bathroom opened and Audrey walked in. She had her shower things arranged neatly in a basket, including a bottle of hair elixir that she'd begun using to make her hair extra shiny.

  


“Why're you smiling?” 

  


“Dunno,” said Rose, quickly wiping the smile off her face. “Just looking at my pores – don't want to get any acne, you know.”

  


“Right,” said Audrey in a tone that suggested she absolutely did not believe Rose in the slightest. “You're up to something. Albus, Rox, and I all agree. What is it?”

  


“I'm not up to anything.”

  


“You sneak off in the mornings before anyone else is awake and then meet us in the middle of breakfast and on the weekends you're nowhere to be found.”

  


“I've been practicing--”

  


“No, you haven't,” interrupted Audrey, “but we're not angry with you. We just want to know what's going on. You're not in trouble are you?”

  


“No.”

  


“We didn't think so. Are you studying?”

  


Rose almost fell over in surprise. “Am I _what_?”

  


“You heard me. You're so completely against schoolwork and doing any sort of studying, but you've been getting high marks in class. I mean, we all know you're very clever, but clever enough to get high marks without studying? You don't have to be embarrassed about it.”

  


“Oh, I'm not embarrassed,” said Rose slowly.

“So now you don't have to hide it. It's okay, we don't care.”

Rose shook her head. “I'd really like it if you didn't tell Albus or Roxanne about this. Can it just be our secret?”

  


Audrey sighed, but nodded. “All right, if you insist.”

  


“I do. I'll leave you to your shower.”

  


Rose smiled and left the bathrooms. She went into the seventh-year girls' dormitory and pulled several pieces of parchments from her trunk and sat on her bed. Olivia was still studying in the common room, so the room was empty. Rose pulled her bed curtains closed and set the papers out on her bed. Suddenly she laughed. Just moments earlier she'd been thinking to herself that she wasn't the most talented at anything in particular, but right here in front of her proved that she was!

  


She had letters from the captains of five Quidditch teams, all asking her to officially tryout. She giggled again as she looked at the letterheads – Appleby Arrows, Chudley Cannons, Falmouth Falcons, Holyhead Harpies, and Wimbourne Wasps. Rose wasn't sure how she was still getting good marks in her classes, because any free time that wasn't spent hiding with Scorpius, she spent practicing Quidditch.

  


Rose picked up the letter from the Harpies and looked over it again. This was the team she wanted more than anything, but she also knew that this team wouldn't be able to pay her as much as the Falcons could, who had won every Cup the last five years in a row. She hadn't told her parents yet about any of this. She wanted to show her father the letters personally when she went home for Christmas. He was going to be _thrilled_ for her. Her mother on the other hand . . . Rose wasn't sure exactly how her mum would take the news. 

  


Lying back on her bed, Rose held the letter from the Harpies in her hand as she fell asleep.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Ron played with the food on his plate, pushing his peas around and mashing his roasted potatoes. His wine sat untouched, his knife still clean.

  


“Seriously, Ron, what's the matter?”

  


Ron looked across the table at his wife. She was so beautiful. “Nothing.”

  


“Bollocks.”

  


Ron smirked. “I love when you swear. It's just work.”

  


“You mope and brood all the time now. Perhaps taking this job wasn't a good idea after all. You're not the same and we haven't made love in almost three weeks.”

  


Ron winced. It was true, because normally they had an incredibly active sex life and these days Ron didn't have the energy to do anything. Work had completely drained him.

  


“I understand that work is tough, but you need to talk to me.” Hermione reached her hand across the table and took hold of Ron's. “I love you.”

  


Ron felt terrible. He hadn't meant to alienate the one person he loved more than anyone else in the world. He hung his head and sighed.

  


“Talk to me.”

“Astoria Malfoy is missing. We went to her house last week and everything inside was destroyed. Her door was kicked in and things were scattered everywhere. It looked like someone burgled her, but we know differently. We're positive it was staged to look that way.”

  


“You think the men Draco worked for took her?”

  


“Yes, but we have no idea why. We don't know where she is or who even took her. We have some of our best Aurors tailing Arturo Gallows, but wizards can be very difficult to follow – what with the Floo Network and Apparition. It's nearly impossible sometimes, but they do a _really_ brilliant job of it. We haven't discovered any new victims yet, but we don't know if that means the murders have stopped or if they now know how to cover their tracks. It's all eating away at me, especially Astoria because she was innocent.”

  


“How is Draco doing?”

  


“We had to get a Healer from St. Mungo's to come and sedate him. We thought he was going mad. He's very upset and he's furious with me and Harry for letting Astoria get taken.”

  


“You couldn't possibly have known,” said Hermione soothingly. “You'll find her.”

  


“I don't know what Scorpius is going to do for Christmas. Maybe we should invite him here.”

  


Hermione looked shocked. “Really? Has anyone told him his mother is missing? It wasn't in the papers.”

  


“We didn't want it in the papers and mostly everyone thinks she's still in France. Draco said he owled Scorpius, but then again . . . he's been slightly unhinged lately.” Ron took a long pause. “I feel like it's our fault Astoria is missing and remember how Harry used to feel when he couldn't go home for the holidays?”

  


“Yes, but the situation is a little different. Do you suppose it's even safe for him to come home for the holidays? What if the same people who took Astoria come here and take Scorpius?”

  


Ron shook his head. “I don't know. Perhaps he should stay at Hogwarts. What of Rose and Hugo? I think they may be safer at Hogwarts, too. The people who took Astoria could take us at any time as well – they must know we are working on the case.”

  


“We've got protective shields all around the house. No one could possibly get through them. I put them up myself and I check them everyday.”

  


“I think they'd be safer at Hogwarts.” Ron paused again. “No, they'd be safer here.” Another pause. “Well, maybe at school . . .”

  


“Ron, I think both places are equally susceptible, to be honest. If it would make you feel better to invite Scorpius to spend Christmas here, then that's fine with me. He shouldn't have to remain at school, especially if all his friends are going home as well. In fact, I insist he come here. He can't be worse than Draco, right?”

  


“Oh, I forgot for a moment that he was Malfoy's son. Well, we can suffer through one holiday. I would feel less guilty about his mother if at least he had someone to spend the holidays with. Maybe he has grandparents we don't know about, in which case I'd want Aurors escorting him to their house and keeping guard – just in case.”

  


“He can sleep in my study,” said Hermione. “We'll put a camp bed in there.”

  


“I hope Rosie won't mind. I doubt she and Scorpius are exactly friends.”

  


Hermione shrugged. “You never know. Do you feel better yet?”

  


“A little.”

  


“What else can I do to help you feel better?”

  


Ron grinned. “Take me upstairs.”

  


“You're so naughty sometimes.”

  


“We have three weeks to make up for. Come on. I'll let you be on top.”

  


“Oh, you'll _let_ me be on top, huh?”

  


“And I'll even allow you to let me give you some really good head.”

  


“ _Ron!_ ” Hermione cried, looking completely scandalized.

  


“What? You know you love it. Let's go.”

  


XXXXXXX 

  


Rose walked down the stairs towards the Great Hall with Audrey and Albus. It had snowed during the night and they'd all awoken with excitement, ready to make snowmen and snowballs. Rose wore her jumper and had charmed her socks to stay warm so her feet would feel toasty. Professor Longbottom stood at the entrance to the Great Hall, wringing his hands together and looking rather nervous.

  


“Er, Miss Weasley, I need to speak to you.”

  


“Sure, what's up?”

  


Professor Longbottom looked at Albus and then Audrey. “You can go ahead in for breakfast, it's best if I speak to Rose alone.”

  


“I'll catch you guys in a bit. Save me some toast.” Once Albus and Audrey had gone inside the Great Hall, Rose turned to Professor Longbottom. “What's going on?”

  


“You missed the mail delivery.”

  


“Oh, did I get an owl?”

  


“Not that I know of, but Scorpius did and he ran out of the Hall in a hurry.”

  


“Oh. All right. . . . Why are you telling me this?”

  


“Because I've never seen a student quite so upset. His Head of House went after him, but I thought you might have better luck actually finding him.”

  


Rose shrugged. “We're not really friends any more.”

  


“Do you know the statue of Merritt the Malicious?”

  


“Yes. . . .” said Rose, thinking of the nook behind the statue that sometimes she and Scorpius met behind to talk or kiss.

  


“That statue is directly in front of my quarters, did you know that?”

  


“Er, no.”

  


“It looks just like a wall, doesn't it? I designed it that way.” Professor Longbottom flushed. “Actually, your mum helped with that charm. Anyway, I try to only leave when the corridor is empty so no one really knows where I sleep--”

  


“Why would that matter?” interrupted Rose.

  


“Well, my wife comes to stay with me and it'd be nice not to have students knocking on my door when she's there.” Professor Longbottom's blush deepened. “My point is, I've seen both you and Scorpius sneak behind the statue. Mind you, I don't really care because you never skiv off class and you're young, but don't tell me you're not really friends, because I know you are.”

  


“Sorry, Professor.”

  


“So, please go find him. I know he's going through some terrible times because of his father. He hasn't been the same in my class and I don't know if he's got more bad news about his father or what was so upsetting.”

  


“Please, Professor, don't let anyone know that Scorpius and I are sneaking. We're trying to keep it a secret.”

  


“Your parents and Malfoy were enemies in school, but I don't think--”

  


“Not our parents, Professor. Look, Scorpius' mum wrote him and told him to cut off his friends and girlfriends because she's scared these people that Draco Malfoy got involved with may come after us. It reminds me of the story where my Uncle Harry broke up with Aunt Ginny. . . .”

  


Professor Longbottom nodded. “I agree. I'll keep it a secret as long as you come to class.”

  


“Hey, don't tell that to me, I dropped Herbology last year.”

  


“You did? I forget sometimes.”

  


“Thanks, Professor. I'm going to go find Scorpius.”

  


Professor Longbottom nodded. “Good luck, Rose. Scorpius is having a rotten run of luck lately. He could really use a good friend.”

  


“I'll try my best.” Rose thought briefly of toast and eggs, but her stomach turned at the thought of food. There was really no telling what Scorpius' letter had said, so her mind was a whirlwind with all the possibilities. She wondered what time it was, because she did have a class immediately after breakfast, although that thought quickly vanished – Scorpius was more important than her classes.

  


Rose searched the Quidditch pitch, the library, and two deserted classrooms. She peeked in the empty dungeon classrooms and some of the hidden spots she and Scorpius sneaked off to when they needed a snog. He was nowhere. For a moment, Rose thought he was in his dormitory, but if he wanted to be alone, that wouldn't be somewhere he'd go. Finally, Rose gave up and went to the Owlery. She looked around until she saw Scorpius' owl.

  


“Hey, Malcolm, come here!” 

  


The brown owl hooted, but glided down towards Rose. He landed on her outstretched arm.

“I don't have a letter for you, but – ouch!”

One of the school owls dropped a letter right on her head. Rose picked it up from the ground, careful of Malcolm. It was addressed to her; the owl must have kept it since she missed the morning post in the Great Hall. She didn't have time for letters, so she shoved it in shirt pocket.

  
“I need you to help me find Scorpius, Malcolm. D'you know where he is?”

  


Malcolm hooted again, which Rose took as a “yes.”

  


“Will you show me? I need to find him, but I can't run as fast as you can fly, so you'll need to go slow.”

  


With another hoot, the owl took off through one of the open windows in the Owlery. Rose dashed down the stairs and through the doorway. Malcolm circled overhead before soaring through the trees, right over the path that went straight into Hogsmeade. Without hesitation, Rose followed the path, jogging over the rocks, trying not to trip. She wondered where in Hogsmeade Scorpius might be. Most of the shop owners would send word to the school if they spotted a student when it wasn't an official Hogsmeade weekend. She was freezing in the December air. She hadn't worn a coat or her school cloak; she didn't go back to Gryffindor Tower in her search for Scorpius. 

  


Malcolm circled twice over a grimy little pub and then flew back off towards Hogwarts. Rose looked at the small door, which looked to be hanging on its hinges only by magic. She walked inside and was shocked by the dimness; she could barely see. Once her eyes adjusted, she spotted Scorpius sitting on a bar stool, a bottle in his hand. She sat next to him, but didn't say anything. When the barkeep came over, she ordered water. He eyed her, but didn't say anything.

  


“How did you find me?”

  


“Malcolm.”

  


Scorpius nodded, as though he needed no further explanation.

  


“How many of those have you had?” asked Rose, pointing at his bottle.

  


“No idea.”

  


“You do realize it's not even lunchtime and you're drinking? I'm surprised this pub was open.”

  


“It wasn't. I caught the barkeep trying to wash his outside windows and I told him I would pay anything for a drink.”

  


“What happened?”

  


“I got another bloody letter. Every time I get bad news, it's always in print. I'm right sick of it.”

  


“Did your mum write you again? What's happened?”

  


“Not my mum,” said Scorpius with a dark laugh. “Your father.”

  


“ _What_?”

  


Scorpius turned and looked at Rose. “You didn't know?”

  


Rose shook her head. “No. Well, wait.” She pulled the letter out of her shirt pocket and looked at it. “It's my father's handwriting, but I haven't read it. Why would my father be writing to you?”

  


Scorpius shrugged. Frustrated, Rose tore open her letter and began to read. 

  


_Dear Rosie,_

_Your mum and I are really excited to have you and your brother home for Christmas holiday. Your mum planned a list of things to do while you're home. I asked her to quill in some time for us to play Quidditch, but you know how your mum is._

_I know you're expecting a normal holiday this year, but we decided to invite Scorpius Malfoy to stay with us over Christmas and New Year. I sent him an owl the same time I'm sending you this letter. I know you read in the papers that I was one of the Aurors who took Draco Malfoy in to the Ministry to be charged for murder. Malfoy was involved with some very dangerous wizards and since his arrest, they've come after his wife. We thought Malfoy had written his son and told him, but he has been under heavy sedation from St. Mungo's Healers. Malfoy hasn't taken the news of his wife's disappearance well and has become almost a danger to himself. We thought it best to use potions to keep him quiet until he can take control of himself. Somewhere in the madness, his letter to Scorpius was never owled. This will be the first time Scorpius has heard of his mother's kidnapping._

_We don't know if you know Scorpius well, but I feel somewhat responsible that he will be alone on Christmas. With so much of the staff and professors gone over the holiday, Hogwarts might not be the safest place if these Dark wizards decide to come after Scorpius, too._

_I can't wait to hear about your Quidditch practices. I'm so proud of you for being made Captain! I'll be on the platform when your train arrives home._

_Love,_

_Dad_

  


“Fuck me,” said Rose when she'd finished the letter. “Scorpius! When was the last time you heard from your mum? How long has she been gone?”

  


“About two weeks and I had no idea. I thought I might have _felt_ something – my mum and I are close.” Scorpius shook his head. “My father is being kept calm with potions because he's going mad and he's going mad because your father arrested him.”

  


“Excuse me?” cried Rose. “Don't give me that accusatory tone. Do not be angry with me because of something my _father_ did. I've been at Hogwarts since September and I've no control over what my parents do while I'm here. Your father is not going mad because he was arrested, he's going mad because the men _he_ did business with kidnapped your mother – _what are you looking at?_ ” Rose snapped at the barkeep, who was staring at them from behind the bar. “I'm sorry,” she quickly added. “Can we have some privacy?”

  


“Only privacy we got here is in one of the rooms upstairs.”

  


“Right,” said Rose, “well, we'll take one of those.”

  


XXXXXXX

  


Upstairs, Rose waved her wand around, clearing away all the dust and trying to clean everything the best she could. Scorpius dropped his cloak in a heap near the door and shoved his hands in his pockets. There weren't any chairs, so Rose took a seat on the bed, which sagged and squeaked under her weight. Scorpius sat next to her, head in his hands.

  


“I've been worrying about exams and homework and my mum's probably dead somewhere.”

  


“She's not dead,” reassured Rose. “I know my dad is following every clue to find her. He's probably a huge mess about it, too. I know how mad he'd be if my mum went missing, so I'm sure he's doing what he can. Same with my Uncle Harry.” She put her arms around Scorpius' shoulders. 

  


“I've normally got my life together. I've never been so upset so many times before. I feel as though you've only ever seen me when I'm dealing with some heavy issues.”

  


“That's not true. I've seen lovely sides of you – and this heavy stuff is what I'm here for. You can unload on me or cry or whatever you need. I'm still your girlfriend, aren't I? I think 'comfort' is in the girlfriend rulebook.”

  


“Thanks.”

  


“I wish I knew what to say! What d'you need me to do?”

  


Scorpius shook his head. 

“I can do anything – d'you want me to shut up? I can do that, too.”

  


Scorpius nodded and lifted his head up from his hands. “Yes, stop talking.” He lay back on the bed and motioned for Rose to lay beside him. She wrapped her arms around him. They lay in silence, listening to the creaky floorboards as the barkeep walked around the other rooms, presumably cleaning. Rose listened to the rhythmic sounds of Scorpius' breath as she placed her hand underneath his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin. She opened and closed her fingers against his chest, her heart quickening. He felt so good beneath her hand.

  


“I don't like how this . . .” Scorpius shook his head, as though trying to regain his thoughts. “I don't like how my mother's letter got between us. I don't like how I got angry with _you_ before because of something that happened between our parents, which has nothing to do with us.”

  


“Neither do I.”

  


“I don't know how to fix it. I don't want to keep hiding, but I do worry how this could eventually affect us. I don't want it to break us up.”

  


“I agree.”

  


“So what should we do about it?”

  


“Stay strong,” said Rose.

  


Scorpius laughed a little. “Of course.”

  


“I don't know how to answer that. D'you know that we saw more of each other when we were friends than now, because of all the hiding?”

  


“Yes. We still need to keep it a secret, especially now. If my mum was kidnapped, then they could come after me – or you. It's not safe.”

  


“I understand. Although now that we're both 'missing' today, everyone is going to be suspicious.”

  


Scorpius closed his eyes. Rose propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at him. She thought she saw a shimmer of a tear in the corner of his eye. With the pad of her thumb, she wiped it away.

  


“Sorry,” mumbled Scorpius. 

  


“It's all right. You can be sad and upset. Your father went slightly mad, didn't he? You can cry, I think it's normal.”

  


“Right.” Scorpius opened his eyes. “My brain is overloaded. I cannot focus on anything and I really only want to focus on nothing.”

  


“Focus on me, then,” whispered Rose. “I'm better than nothing and I can take your mind off other things.” Scorpius' eyes searched hers and she smiled. She sat up on her knees and undid her school tie, letting it drop to the floor. Her fingers began to unbutton her shirt and she heard a low groan from Scorpius, a sound he made whenever she was particularly turning him on. Her feet kicked off her shoes and she slid her socks off her feet. She then undid the zipper of her skirt and stood up to let it fall down her legs and pool around her feet. She stepped out of it and stood next to Scorpius, a sly grin on her face. “Distracted?”

  


He nodded. “You are very sexy.”

  


Rose felt her skin heat up; she knew she was blushing. “Wow. Thanks.” She sat back on the bed and pulled Scorpius up until he was sitting. She lifted the bottom of his jumper up and over his head. She undid his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and began to unbuckle his belt when his hands covered hers, stopping her. “What's wrong?” asked Rose, immediately thinking Scorpius didn't want her right now, with everything going on with his family.

  


“Nothing. Just my shoes.” Scorpius reached down and undid the laces of his shoes and took them off, setting them by the bed. Then he removed his socks. “All right, go on then.”

  


Rose laughed and kissed him. His hands ran up and down her bare back, stopping briefly on her bra before undoing it with unnatural ease. She undid the zipper of his trousers and broke away long enough to pull them down his legs. She couldn't help but grin at the sight of his almost-naked body. Scorpius quickly flipped her on her back, pressing his weight on top of her, kissing her shoulder and neck, his left hand cupping her right breast.

  


“Rose,” he murmured into her skin.

  


“Hmm?”

  


Scorpius looked down at her and then kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips. He pulled away and opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Rose felt as though Scorpius' eyes were pulling her to him, even though she didn't leave the bed.

  


“Rose, I . . .”

  


The smile on Rose's face widened. Scorpius' eyes told her everything. His look was wild, but loving. She didn't need him to say the words, she felt them through his gaze, as though his eyes washed her body in his adoration. 

  


“You don't have to say it if you don't want to,” she said. “I know what you want to say.”

  


“You do?”

  


“Your eyes are telling me. I can feel it.”

  


Scorpius nodded. “I knew you understand me.”

  


“Yes,” said Rose, “I do. Now, let me distract you, yeah? Kiss me.”

  


XXXXXXX

  


“I'm sorry, Dad said _what_?”

  


Rose groaned. “Dad said Scorpius Malfoy was going to come home with us for Christmas holiday.” Rose barely looked up from her book of Quidditch plays long enough to see Hugo sitting across from her. She mentioned their father's owl in passing, not sure if Hugo knew Scorpius was coming for the holiday.

  


“Do you _hear this_ , Albus?” Hugo nearly shouted.

  


Albus looked up from the sofa in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. He sat next to Audrey, one book open across both their laps. “Hear what?”

  


“This bullshit about Malfoy staying with us for Christmas?”

  


“What?”

  


Hugo's face was turning red. Rose thought he might explode.

  


“I don't understand the problem,” said Rose calmly, finally looking away from her notes.

  


“I don't understand either,” said Albus, shoving the book completely in Audrey's lap and standing up. “Is Christmas going to be a Weasley-Potter-Malfoy holiday?”

  


“Yes,” said Rose. “What's the problem?”

  


“Why'd you have to invite your boyfriend?” asked Hugo. “That's completely unfair. What if I wanted to invite Maisy? She's already made plans and I--”

  


“First of all,” interrupted Rose, “Scorpius is not my boyfriend. Second of all, I didn't invite him.”

  


“Bollocks,” said Albus. “If you didn't invite him who did?”

  


“My dad did,” said Rose dangerously. She got up from her chair, slamming her book down on the tabletop. “Dad arrested Scorpius' dad and his mum is visiting family in France, but the Ministry thinks it's too dangerous for Scorpius to go to France because of the Dark wizards his dad did business with, so he's coming home with us.”

  


“Why can't he stay at school?” asked Albus.

  


“So Dad invited him because he felt sorry for him?” inquired Hugo, his tone softening. “I thought you invited him without talking to me about it.”

  


“No,” said Rose, shaking her head and turning her gaze from Albus to Hugo. “It was all Dad, I promise. But why does it matter?”

  


“I dunno. I guess because neither of us has ever brought a friend home for Christmas or summer holiday and if you could bring someone, then I would've invited Maisy. . . .”

  


“Wow, you really like this Maisy girl, huh? That's cute.”

  


“Shut it,” mumbled Hugo, his cheeks flushing.

  


“Why can't he stay at school?” Albus asked again.

  


“Sorry,” said Hugo. “I shouldn't have got angry.”

  


“It's all right.” Rose shrugged. “It'll be a little different, but I'm sure Scorpius will probably study the entire time so it'll be fine. You won't even know he's there.”

  


“I'm sure if Mum and Dad invited him, it'll be okay.”

  


“You're so optimistic, Hugo.”

  


“Christmas spirit, I suppose.”

  


“WHY CAN'T HE STAY AT SCHOOL?”

  


Rose rounded on Albus. “Why are you shouting, you nitwit?”

  


“Because you're ignoring me. Why the hell can't Scorpius stay at school during the holidays?”

  


“Would _you_ want to spend the holidays alone? I think it was lovely of my dad to invite him to stay for the holiday.”

  


“What about the family dinner?”

  


“I'm sure he'll be there.” Rose felt angry. She thought Albus had grown past all this. The tradition for the Weasley-Potter clan was to have a huge family dinner on Christmas Eve and exchange gifts. Everyone came, ate wonderful food, and got drunk off Elderberry wine and Firewhisky. It had also become tradition as all the kids grew older to bring significant others to meet the family officially. All of Bill's kids had done it; Dominique had brought different wizards three years in a row, unable to make up her mind on who she wanted to marry.

  


“That's great. Christmas is going to be shit.”

  


“Oh, don't be so ridiculous. Isn't James bringing his flatmate to the dinner?”

  


“My brother James?”

  


“How many Jameses do you know that routinely go to Weasley-Potter Christmas dinners?”

  


“I didn't know he was bringing his flatmate.”

  


Rose nodded. “He owled me last week to see what I wanted for Christmas and said I'd get to meet his flatmate at dinner on Christmas Eve.”

  


“What's your point?”

  


“Her point,” said Audrey, looking annoyed, “is that who cares if Scorpius comes over for dinner? If James can bring a friend, what does it matter? I am so sick of hearing you two bicker about Scorpius. Who _cares_?”

  


“Thank you, Audrey,” said Rose.

  


Albus opened his mouth to say something, but quickly shut it. He shook his head and walked out of the common room.

  


“Merlin!” cried Rose. “I am so sick of him! I mean, if he'd invited you to the stupid dinner, I wouldn't have cared,” said Rose, looking at Audrey. “And who cares if James is bringing a friend? His dad used to spend every Christmas with my dad and they were best mates, not family. I don't understand him.”

  


“He and James have been bickering lately,” said Audrey, looking out the window, not meeting Rose's gaze. “There's a lot of tension there. Anyway, I would love to come to a Christmas dinner. Maybe one day I will. . . .”

  


“One day I'm sure you will. I wonder if Lily is bringing anyone.” Rose shook her head again. “This is ridiculous. Why do we fight? It drives me mad! I'm going to the library. I've got to finish these Quidditch plays for practice tomorrow and this common room is too much right now.” She gathered her books and left the common room. 

  


She walked slowly towards the library, her head full of thoughts. It was all so strange, how hostile her relationship with Albus had become. They used to be best friends, so close. Lately she seemed closer to her little brother than she did her best mate. She had wanted to talk about it with Scorpius, but he had so much going on with his family; he was barely able to focus long enough to study. Understandably, he was consumed with worry for his mother and the only thing that had distracted him was when Rose kissed him.

  


Once inside the library, Rose immediately spotted Scorpius sitting at a table all to himself, completely surrounded by books. They made eye contact and Rose walked into the stacks, losing herself between the shelves of books. It didn't take long for Scorpius to walk into the same aisle she was in. His eyes looked hollow, his skin pale. He looked ill.

  


“Hi,” she whispered. “You don't look so well.”

  


“I don't really feel so well.”

  


“I'm sorry.”

  


Scorpius shrugged. He pointed to the books in her arms. “Quidditch plays?”

  


“Yes.”

  


“I got an owl from that pub we stayed at the other day, for the room and drinks.”

  


Rose's eyes widened in horror. “We forgot to pay.”

  


“The barkeep knew who I was. My family's accounts have been frozen, including mine. I don't have enough money right now to cover the whole thing. . . . The money my parents gave me for school supplies and Hogsmeade had mostly run out, so what I had left only covered half the cost.”

  


“Oh!” exclaimed Rose. “I'll help. I've got my allowance from my parents for Hogsmeade weekends. I'll be able to help. Thank Merlin they didn't send the bill to the school. I would've been mortified.”

  


“Same with me. I'm sorry to have to ask you to help. It's rather embarrassing, actually.”

  


“No, no, don't be embarrassed! I don't mind. We were both in the room, so it wasn't like I forced you in there or anything.”

  


“I suppose. The barkeep knows who you are, too, though, so please, we must be careful. We don't know who he knows, or who he could tell about us. It was thoughtless of me to go to Hogsmeade in the first place. I could have been taken by those wizards who took my mother.”

  


“Or witches.”

  


“What?”

  


“We don't know who took your mum, so it could've been a Dark witch, too.”

  


“True,” agreed Scorpius.

  


“We should probably keep things quiet until we're at my house. We'll have a lot of time together, because my parents will be working for some of the holiday between Christmas and New Year.”

  


“That sounds nice.”

  


“It sounds _wonderful_.”

  


“I agree.”

  


“There's only three more days until the train ride home. I can wait until then, if you can – but I'm always here if you need to talk to me about anything.”

  


Scorpius attempted a grin, but it was feeble and he ended up looking sadder than before. “I'll let you get to your Quidditch plays.”

  


Rose nodded. “All right then.” She gave him a smile and turned to leave the stacks. Scorpius took hold of her arm, stopping her.

  


“Wait. . . .”

  


She turned back around. “What?”

  


“The other day was great.”

  


“I think so, too.”

  


“I want to do it again.”

  


“So do I.”

  


“I love you.”

“Yeah?” Rose couldn't help but smile.

  


Scorpius nodded.

  


“I--” Rose stopped. From behind Scorpius she saw someone walked down the aisle; it was Albus. He stood there, staring at her. She didn't think he had heard Scorpius, but he stood there nevertheless. Scorpius turned around.

  


“Do you need something?” he asked.

  


Albus shook his head. “Nothing from you.”

  


Rose rolled her eyes. “I'll see you on the train, Scorpius. We'll finish our conversation later.” She surreptitiously touched Scorpius' hand as she passed him, hoping to convey her feelings through her single touch. He lowered his head slightly, as though nodding, and Rose knew he felt her meaning. As she passed Albus, she looked at him and said, “Grow up.” 

  


XXXXXXX

  


Rose had everything packed neatly in a bag. She left her trunk back at school, along with all her schoolbooks. She and Audrey were the first ones to breakfast and the first ones on the train; they were more than ready to leave Hogwarts behind for a two-week holiday. 

  


“Are you excited to have Scorpius come home with you for Christmas? I mean, you may not be dating him now, but you tried to date him there fore a while.”

  


“I don't know about a 'while,' but we tried for a couple of weeks. It didn't work out, we're friends, so it'll be fine. I'm not excited,” lied Rose. “How are things with Albus? You guys've grown really close lately.”

  


Audrey shrugged. “He's been a bit weird lately.”

  


“How so?”

  


“Okay, if I tell you, you have to _promise_ not to tell anyone else.”

  


“Cross my heart.”

  


“All right. Don't think me a slag, okay? But I sort of told Albus I wanted to have sex with him.”

  


“If I could faint right now, I would. Maybe I don't want to know this after all.”

  


Audrey shook her head. “No, no, there aren't any details, okay? Listen, it's just I'm _ready_. I'm eighteen and I've had boyfriends before so I've already done everything except for, y'know . . . and so I told him I wanted to and he went a bit funny.”

  


“A bit funny?”

  


“Yeah. It's like his brain went all wonky and he couldn't speak. He said he wasn't ready and I think he was really rather embarrassed, which I didn't mean to embarrass him. I thought boys were always ready to go, but he wasn't, so now every time we kiss he shuts down because I think he thinks I'm going to just jump on top of him and have at it.”

  


Rose couldn't help but laugh. “Poor Albus!”

  


“I told him I was all right with waiting. I don't really care, but I'm ready when he is.” Audrey looked upset. “I think I ruined everything.”

  


“Oh, you didn't ruin anything. Want me to talk to him? Tell him he's a stupid bint.”

  


Audrey laughed. “No, thanks. But thanks for the offer. I'll just tell him myself. I just felt ready.”

  


“I know what you mean.”

  


“You do?” Audrey's eyes narrowed. “Have _you_ had sex?”

  


“Uh . . .” Rose was caught off-guard. “That's a rather personal question, isn't it?”

  


“Oh my god, you have, haven't you? _Tell me_. I can't believe you haven't told me.”

  


“I've never done anything.”

  


“Yes you have! I can tell when you're lying, I've lived with you for over six years.”

  


Rose shook her head. “We're not talking about this. Ah, look, there's Hugo. Hey, Hugo! Come sit with us.”

  


Hugo stuck his head in the compartment. “I'm sitting with Maisy . . . but I'll see you on the platform. Hi, Audrey.”

  


“Hi, Hugo.” Audrey had waited for Hugo to leave before continuing, “You can't get away from the topic that quickly.”

  


“Now, there's Albus and Roxanne. Fantastic!” Rose smiled and ushered her cousins into the train compartment. “Hey guys, come sit with us.”

  


“Are you sure you want me to?” asked Albus uncertainly. 

  


“Yes. It's almost Christmas. We can put differences aside for the holiday, can't we?”

  


Albus looked unsure, but sat down in the compartment next to Audrey. Roxanne sat next to Rose and put her arm around her.

  


“I miss you during the schooldays. I wish I could come see you in your common room, but I'm in a different House. It's so depressing sometimes, I miss my cousin.”

  


Rose smiled. “I miss you, too.”

  


“What were you two talking about?” asked Albus.

  


“Nothing--”

  


“Sex.”

  


All color drained from Albus' face.

  


“About who Rose has had sex with,” clarified Audrey.

  


“You naughty girl!” cried Roxanne, laughing.

  


“No one, it's no one. Please. I've not done anything, all right? Let's drop it.”

  


“You're awfully testy,” said Roxanne, still smiling.

  


“It's just very personal and I haven't had sex, and if I had, I wouldn't tell you about it anyway.”

  


Roxanne continued to giggle. “I think you've done it. You're gorgeous; of course you'd do it before the rest of us.”

  


“Hey now,” said Audrey, but she was laughing, too.

  


Rose finally spotted Scorpius walking through the train corridor from. She jumped up from seat and hung out the open door. “Hey, Scorpius! Come sit with us.” 

  


Scorpius stopped and turned, giving Rose a quizzical look.

  


“You're going to be spending a lot more time with us, so you should get to know us better, yeah? Well, you know me fairly well already, but you don't know Albus or Roxanne. So come on.”

  


Scorpius looked completely unsure and hesitant, but he walked to the compartment. Roxanne scooted over so she was closer to the door as Scorpius sat down closer to the window. Rose sat in the middle. 

  


“That's nice, isn't it? I'm assuming you can behave yourself, Albus?”

  


Albus shrugged. “I'm fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

  


There was an uncomfortable silence and Rose was immediately second-guessing her decision to invite Scorpius to share the compartment. He leaned around Rose, looking at Roxanne, and asked, “Doesn't your dad own the joke shop?”

  


“What? Oh, yes. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.”

  


“I used to buy the daydream boxes – whatever they are called – during the summers when I was bored at home. I tried making one once, but it is _really_ difficult magic.”

  


“Yeah, my dad is really brilliant with that stuff. So was his brother. They came up with thousands of ideas before my Uncle Fred died. Some of the stuff my dad is still developing. I've given him loads of ideas for the daydreams, though. He doesn't always know what girls want to dream about and my mum tries, but she's a bit of a tomboy so her ideas aren't quite like the rest of ours.”

  


“That's fantastic. Are you going to go into the family business when you leave Hogwarts?”

  


Roxanne shook her head. “I dunno what I'll do. My dad says there's a position for me in Muggle Research and Development.”

  


“What's that?” asked Audrey.

  


“He wants to open up a Muggle joke shop, but the jokes would be the _best_ since all his products are magic. He would want me to sorta go undercover, see, and find out just what tricks Muggles would like.”

  


Rose smiled warmly at Scorpius, grateful that he was able to initiate conversation with her friends, and impressed at the ease in which he did so. He seemed very mature at that moment, very grownup. Feeling the need to touch him, Rose brushed her foot against his. In response, Scorpius moved his hand next to hers on top of the seat, their little fingers touching ever so slightly. It wasn't much, but it was enough to tell Rose that Scorpius was there, feeling the same things she was.

  


The rest of the train ride went smoothly. Albus kept mostly quiet, but a few times when Scorpius made jokes, Albus couldn't help but laugh with the rest of them. It was the first time in several days that Scorpius hadn't looked quite so ill. Rose knew he was still worried about his mother and father, but today he had seemed normal, like any other wizard going home for the holidays. Scorpius had friends in Slytherin, but Rose knew they weren't as jovial as her friends, that they wouldn't have helped distract Scorpius they way she and her friends could. Scorpius seemed grateful, too, for when the train pulled into Kings Cross, he fiddled with the clasp of his bag while everyone else exited the compartment. When he and Rose were alone, he turned to her.

  


“Thanks,” he said, and kissed her cheek.

  


Rose pressed the palm of her hand against Scorpius' chest. “I love you, too,” she said. “I wanted to say it in the library, but Albus was standing right there, and I didn't want anyone to overhear me.”

  


“I know.”

  


“Is it weird saying it? I've never said it to anyone before. I mean, I've said it to my mum and dad, but you know what I mean. Sometimes I feel like we're much older than this. That I'm not seventeen, I'm twenty-seven or thirty-seven, because the emotions that are going through my body are so intense.”

  


Scorpius nodded. “I understand.”

  


“And I love you, and it's weird how certain I am of that.”

  


The train whistled blew, warning them that they should be exiting the train. Scorpius kissed her quickly, but deeply, and motioned for her to exit through the door first. He followed behind her and they stepped off the train and onto the platform. Rose looked around for her parents and spotted them with Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny. Rose quickened her step and threw her arms around her father, then her mother. She said hello to her aunt and uncle. She turned around and looked at Scorpius, who stood a few feet on the outskirts of the family circle.

  


“This is Scorpius Malfoy, but I think you know who he is already.”

  


Scorpius took a step forward and reached his hand to Rose's father. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Weasley. Thank you for inviting me to stay for Christmas.”

  


Ron Weasley shook the boy's hand and nodded. “You can call me Ron. This is my wife, Hermione.”

  


Scorpius shook her hand as well.

  


“We'll have time to talk back at the house,” said Hermione. “It's freezing! Let's go.”

  


“See you in a couple days!” Rose called to her aunt and uncle and followed her parents through Kings Cross and towards the car. Her parents walked in front, and she, Hugo, and Scorpius followed behind in a row. When she glanced at Scorpius he looked ill again, as though worry had taken over all his other emotions. She nudged him and smiled. “It'll be all right,” she whispered.

  


He nodded but didn't look convinced. Rose linked one arm through his and her other arm through her brother's as they walked through the car park and towards her father's car.

  
XXXXXXX

  


**To Be Continued . . .**

  


XXXXXXX

  


A/N: I want to thank Shannon for beta'ing my chapters so quickly lately, even with kids and the holidays! Thank you! 


	9. Drops of Crimson

XXXXXXX

  


**Chapter Nine: Drops of Crimson**

  


XXXXXXX

  


Dinner that night was lovely. Ron cooked Rose's favorite meal and Hugo's favorite dessert. Scorpius was mostly quiet, but very polite and seemed more at ease the later the night grew. Hermione had set up a bed in her study and enchanted the mattress to be extra soft. After dinner, Hugo went to watch a movie on Hermione's Muggle television set while Rose decided to take a bath and go to bed. Hermione decided to join Hugo. Scorpius went to the study to study.

  


After Rose's bath, she dressed in pajamas and a robe and walked quietly down the stairs, hoping to have a few moments alone with Scorpius. She approached the study but heard voices. The door was opened halfway and she peeked inside. Her father sat backwards on Hermione's desk chair; Scorpius sat on his bed, looking at his folded hands in his lap. Rose pressed herself against the wall as to not be seen. She could just see her father, but Scorpius was out of view.

  


“I don't expect you to forgive me,” said Ron. 

  


“If you think my father's innocent, then why did you arrest him?”

  


“It's very complicated,” said Ron. “The Dark wizards knew your father was interrogated by us. Even though he was oblivious to everything that was going on, he could still have some inside knowledge of what was happening, knowledge that we could use in our case against them. Harry Potter and I thought it would be better to have Draco in our custody to protect him. We told your mother to go to her relatives, to stay quiet and safe, but she came home. The wizards must have had someone watching your house so they knew exactly when she returned, it's the only explanation we've come up with.”'

  


“She should've stayed in France.”

  


“Yes, but we should have protected her more.” Ron shifted in the chair. “I feel guilty. I've never been responsible for someone's disappearance before.” Ron shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “I don't really know what good it'll do to talk to you about all this, but I hope you understand that I have several of my best Aurors trying to find your mum.”

 

“I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

  


“I understand. I'm sorry.”

  


“I don't blame you. I suppose I could, but I don't see what good it would do. If you're truly trying to find my mum, then that's the best I can hope for. And I want to help. I'm Head Boy. I'm the cleverest wizard at Hogwarts, so I know I'm capable of helping if you'd let me.”

  


Ron shook his head. “I'm not going to be responsible for another tragedy in your family, Scorpius, but even when you're back at school, I'll keep owling you updates if you'd like, so you'll know exactly what I'm doing to try to find your mum.”

  


“I'd appreciate that. Thank you.”

  


Ron nodded. “Thanks for coming for the holiday.”

  


“Thank you for having me.”

  


“I didn't want you to be alone. When I was in school, Harry always came home with me because he had nowhere else to go. He was family back then and now he's literally family now. On Christmas Eve we go to my parents' for a huge dinner, but all the kids bring their boyfriends and girlfriends and it's a rather large party, so you'll fit right in. Feel free to relax here. Eat our food, drink our pumpkin juice, whatever you want.”

  


“Thank you,” said Scorpius again. “I appreciate that.”

 

Ron nodded and stood. Rose tiptoed further down the hallway and into the kitchen. She reached for a mug and listened carefully for sounds of her father leaving the study. She heard the creak in the middle stair as her father walked upstairs, probably to go to his room. Rose filled the mug with water and added a teabag. With a flick of her wand, the water began to steam.

  


Rose left the kitchen and stopped in front of the study. She knocked on the door. Scorpius opened it and leaned against the door frame.

  


“I knew it was you,” he said.

  


“How?”

  


“I heard your footsteps earlier outside the door when your father was in here.”

  


“I should've known. Are you okay here? I know it's not home, but--”

  


“After talking to your father for a while, unless these men are caught, I may never be able to go back home, not if they want to take me, too.”

  


“I'm so sorry.”

  


“It is what it is. It's fine here. I think it took a lot of courage for your father to invite me here and talk to me about arresting my father and everything with my mother. I'm really worried about her.”

  


“Of course you are!”

  


“Sometimes I think she might be dead.”

  


Rose shook her head. “She's not. I promise she's not.”

  


“You don't know that.”

  


“I know, but--”

  


“I really don't want to talk about it, all right? Are those your pajamas?” asked Scorpius, changing the subject so quickly it almost gave Rose whiplash.

 

“Er . . . yes. Not what you expected?”

  


“No, in my dreams you're wearing something completely see-through.”

  


Rose's eyes widened in shock. “You're terrible, did you know that?”

 

“Yes.”

  


“Can I come in for a moment?”

  


“You know I want to say yes, but aren't both your parents still awake?”

  


“Yeah, you're right. They'll be at work tomorrow, so we can have a moment to be alone.”

  


Scorpius nodded. “That sounds great.”

  


“You look really tired.”

  


“I am.”

  


“I'll let you get some sleep, then. If you need anything, I'm upstairs, the very last door.”

  


“Thanks.”

  


Rose smiled and brushed her hand across Scorpius' as she went to the stairs. She heard the study door close. She went to her room and gathered the letters from the professional Quidditch teams so she could show her father. Sudden excitement filled her; she knew her father would be so proud.

  


She knocked on her father's door and heard him say, “Come in.” He sat on his bed, which was very neatly made, surrounded by papers. He looked especially tired, perhaps even older. “Hey, Rosie.”

  


“Mum and Hugo are watching something without color, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to show you something. I wanted to show you before telling Mum.”

  


Ron picked up his wand and waved it over the papers. They flew into the air and stacked themselves neatly on the bedside table. He waved Rose over and she sat down next to him on the bed. She handed him the letters and waited for his reaction.

  


“What're these? If these are more letters from Headmistress McGonagall--”

  


“They're not.”

  


“Good, because I don't think I could keep anymore letters from school a secret from your mum. I think she suspects, but hasn't ever said anything to me yet.”

  


“Dad, shut it and read.”

  


Ron looked down at the first piece of parchment. “This is the Wimbourne emblem . . .” His voice trailed off and his eyes scanned over the letter. He flipped to the second parchment. “Harpies . . .” Then the third. “Appleby . . .” He looked through the last two letters. “My god, Rosie, _five_ Quidditch teams?”

  


“Those aren't the reserve teams, either, but the real teams.”

  


“I, yes, I, er, could tell. Rosie, d'you know how amazing this is?” Rose could see the excitement on her father's face. “Which team is your first pick?”

  


“I don't know. I mean, I thought I might just go to each of the official tryouts and see what they offer me.”

  


“They might offer you more money once they find out you're wanted by other teams. You got your talent from my side of the family, you know,” said Ron proudly. “Fred and George were _excellent_ Beaters. Of course Charlie was a brilliant Seeker and Ginny was so versatile that she was great at Seeker _and_ Chaser.”

  


“And you were a brilliant Keeper.”

  


Ron shook his head. “I was hardly brilliant. I had my moments, but mostly I was awful.”

  


“That's not how Mum tells it.”

  


“Mum has to tell it that way because she's my wife and sometimes her love for me makes her delusional.”

  


Rose giggled. “I doubt that, Dad. D'you think Mum'll be disappointed?”

  


“Why?”

  


“Because it's not a job offer from the Ministry or anything. It's not like it's something that'll change the world. Her work actually changes lives. I mean, look at all her hard work changing the laws about Muggleborns--”

  


“Rosie,” interrupted Ron, “you are not your mother. Actually, Hugo is your mother . . .”

 

Rose giggled again and Ron smiled at her.

  


“I don't think you have to worry about your mother. She's very proud of you, even if she doesn't always show it. Believe me.”

  


Rose nodded. “All right. I'll show her the letters tomorrow at dinner.”

  


“Rose,” said Ron, his tone turning very serious, “this is amazing. I don't know how I could be more proud of you than I am right now. You put a lot of hard work into being a Beater and your practice has clearly paid off. It's brilliant.”

  


“Thanks, Dad. I'm proud of you, too.”

  


Ron looked surprised. “Why?”

  


“Because I think you did something great with Scorpius. I know that by having him here, you can keep him safe from the wizards who took his mother. I think it was lovely of you to ask him to come.”

  


“Your mum and I were worried that maybe you weren't friends so it would be a miserable Christmas for you.”

  


“No, we're friends. Well, friend _ly_ at least. We get along well enough. He studies too much and I play too much Quidditch, so we--”

  


“Get along as well as your mum and I did when we were at Hogwarts?”

 

“Well, I – no. No, I wouldn't say that. I meant we have nothing in common.”

  


Ron nodded. He handed the letters back to Rose. “I'd like to come to the tryouts, if it wouldn't embarrass you to have your father watching you.”

  


“It wouldn't,” promised Rose. “I think I'm gonna go to bed now.”

  


“Goodnight, Rosie.”

  


XXXXXXX

  


There was a slow _drip . . . drip . . . drop . . ._ where Astoria was. She blinked against the darkness, unable to distinguish anything in the room. Her hands were bound by rope and tied to hooks on the wall behind her. The ropes were long enough for her to sit down on the floor, but not comfortably. The ceiling overhead must have been wood, because whenever someone walked on the floor above her, dust fell on her face and she could smell the sweetness of sawdust. The dripping of water came down from the ceiling as well, hitting a puddle that was somewhere near her. The sound was rhythmic and slowly becoming maddening.

 

Astoria had lost track of time and wasn't sure how long she'd been gone. She knew Christmas was approaching, for she could hear the sounds of traditional wizarding Christmas carols that came from the wireless that played in the room above her. One day the smell of roasting nuts wafted through the air and she couldn't help but smile; it was a simple smell that reminded her of the goodness of Christmas. Unfortunately, the good feeling left as quickly as it came, for she was still a prisoner and still tied to the wall in the dungeon-like room.

  


She never saw the men who took her again. She heard the vampire's voice once, but she couldn't make out the conversation. A witch and wizard, who she assumed lived in the house, came to see her almost daily. The witch slapped her around and used the Cruciatus Curse on her several times, trying to get information from her, but Astoria had no information to give. It didn't take long for the witch to give up and proclaim that she truly thought Astoria knew nothing. The wizard seemed kind. He was older and shuffled about, beginning to hunch over in his old age. He delivered Astoria food and drink, though the food was always cold and sometimes stale.

  


It had been almost a full week since anyone had asked her questions. The wizard never spoke, just delivered her food once a day. Her ropes were barely long enough for her to reach for her plate and put the food in her mouth, but Astoria did the best she could. It surprised her that people who held her captive would be so normal as to celebrate Christmas and listen to the radio. It would seem that people who were as evil as to kidnap someone wouldn't wrap Christmas presents or roast nuts.

  


Light suddenly flooded the basement as the door at the top of the stairs opened. She squinted against the sting of the brightness. A figure stood in the threshold, tall and broad. Astoria could tell it was a man from its shape and the heaviness of its breathing. The man waved his wand and the entire basement became lit, a hundred candles floated in midair. Astoria watched as the man descended the stairs. His hair hung around his shoulders in straight black strands streaked with silver. He had a neatly trimmed beard and blue-gray eyes. His cloak was lined with black fur and underneath, Astoria could see robes of the darkest red.

  


“You are not what I expected,” the wizard said, stopping right in front of where Astoria sat on the floor. “Astoria Greengrass Malfoy, is that right?”

  


Astoria nodded.

  


“Get up.”

  


Before Astoria could even move her legs, she was lifted against her will. Her back banged against the wall behind her, her head hitting the stone. She cried out in pain as she rose high enough for her feet to dangle above the floor.

 

“Do you know who I am?”

  


Astoria shook her head. “No,” she said, tears streaming down her face. Something told her that this wizard was to be feared.

  


“I am Arturo Gallows. Have you heard my name before?”

  


“No,” said Astoria.

  


“Are you lying to me?” Gallows flicked his wand and Astoria's body banged against the wall again, hard enough to make her cry out again.

  


“No!”

  


“Your husband worked for me. I had clients who needed antiques and he found them for me. Do I sound familiar now?”

  


“Yes,” said Astoria with uncertainty laced in her voice. “I helped Draco with his books and he – he mentioned working for someone new.”

  


“Good. Did he tell you how dangerous I was?”

  


Astoria shook her head. She screamed as an electrocuting pain shot sliced through her veins; her body felt as though it was on fire. Her eyes saw white, the pain so overwhelming she was unable to move her limbs. Nothing functioned, her lungs couldn't get air, and even her brain was unable to think. She was just a mass of pain and hurt.

  


And then it stopped and Astoria fell to the floor.

  


“Did you like that?”

  


Astoria couldn't answer; she just cried.

  


Gallows two steps closer, his body looming over hers. “Tell me what you know of Charlotte Barnaby?”

  


“I don't know anything! I told the wizards who took me that I don't know anything about a girl. I've never heard of anyone named Charlotte Barnaby. _Please._ Use Legilimancy or tell the vampire to sweep my mind again. I know nothing about this girl!”

  


Gallows began pacing around the room. Astoria was afraid to sit up or stand, so she lay in the floor, listening to the sounds of Gallows' footsteps tapping against the hard floor. 

  


“Tell me,” he said, “why is your husband being held by the Ministry?”

  


“He's waiting trial.”

  


“Why was he arrested?”

  


Astoria looked up. Gallows had his eyes on her from across the room; she could feel the coldness and hatred even from twenty feet away. “Because the Ministry needed someone to blame. The only evidence they have points to Draco.”

  


“Why have they waited so long to put him on trial?”

  


“He's in a long line of trials. His date is getting closer.”

  


“Did you think your husband is guilty?”

  


“No.”

  


“Then why do you suppose he has not tried to point the finger at someone else?”

  


Astoria shook her head. “I don't know.” Another flash of heat washed up her body and she writhed in agony against the floor. “I – DON'T – KNOW!” she screamed in between the pain. 

  


“I think you do know.”

  


“Do your Legilimancy. Prove I know something. Stop torturing me!”

  


Gallows tutted. “I do not believe you should be the one ordering me about. Who do you think you are? You are Astoria Malfoy, wife of a murderer. If your family hasn't disowned you yet, they soon will. You are a disgrace.” He walked across the room and kicked Astoria. He touched his wand to her shoulder. She screamed as the tip of his wand burnt a hole in her robes, the heat blistering her skin.

  


“You have – to – stop,” she gasped as he touched his wand to her neck, burning her there as well. Her skin felt as though it was burning straight through to her bones, as though the heat was burning away her muscles, trying to eat its way through her body. 

  


“I believe you know more than you are telling. What do you know? Your husband is one of the most powerful Occlumens I have ever met. I would be surprised if he hadn't taught you Occlumency as well.”

  


Astoria shook her head. “ _Nuhhh_ ,” she groaned, as the wand touched her stomach. She felt as if she'd just been punched. This magic was Dark. She'd never felt anything quite like this; every touch of his wand was torturous. “I don't know Occlumency. There's no reason for me to learn it because I don't know anything!”

  


“DONOVAN!” Gallows shouted, not taking his eyes off Astoria. 

 

The door at the top of the stairs opened again and Astoria immediately recognized the vampire who kidnapped her from her home. He radiated Influence over her, turning her all her worries into debilitating fear. She could not move nor speak nor think. Her eyes were stuck on his as she watched him get closer and closer. His lips curled, baring the sharp points of his teeth. It wasn't so much a smile as a snarl and Astoria shut her eyes tightly, awaiting the bite.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Rose looked out the window of her father's old room at the Burrow. She could see her family below, sitting at four tables pushed together. Earlier that afternoon, Rose helped her mother set up tables outside and transfigured enough chairs for every Weasley and guest. Her mum set warming charms all over the back garden so everyone could sit through dinner comfortably. There were over thirty of them gathered together for Christmas Eve dinner. The crowd got larger every year as the kids grew older, met mates, and had children of their own. So far only Victoire had given Molly and Arthur great-grandchildren, but this year Louis had announced his engagement and Molly had brought the same wizard to Christmas dinner for the last three years so everyone was expecting an engagement soon.

  


All the adults were full of heavy wine and food and were now laughing while reminiscing about their own Hogwarts days. Rose escaped with a glass of wine to her father's old room. Scorpius came with her and he sat on the edge of the old bed, looking through a photo album that was on the bedside table.

  


“Your dad is so young in these pictures.”

  


“I know.”

  


“How much of that wine have you drunk?”

  


Rose smiled and turned away from the window. She looked at Scorpius and her smile widened. She crossed the room and sat down beside him. Setting her wine glass down on the bedside table, Rose reached for Scorpius and kissed him. He let the photo album drop to the floor with a _thud_ as he immediately shifted his weight and leaned into the kiss. Rose let herself fall backwards on the bed and pulled Scorpius on top of her.

  


“We can't,” he whispered. “Your whole family is downstairs.”

  


“I know. I just wanted to touch you.” 

  


“There is nothing better than this. I do love you.”

 

“I know,” breathed Rose. “Me too. I want – wait, did you hear that?”

  


“Hear what?”

  


“Get up, get up.” Rose pushed against Scorpius and jumped up from the bed just as the bedroom door swung open.

  


“Thought you'd be up here,” said Albus as he walked into the room. Behind him were Roxanne, James, James' flatmate, Hugo, and Lucy, one of her Uncle Percy's daughters. Albus had a bottle of wine in his hand. “What were you doing?”

  


“Looking through photo albums.”

  


Albus' eyes went to the book on the floor.

  


“You startled me coming into the room,” said Rose, “and I dropped the book.” She turned to James. “Hi, James. We barely got to talk during dinner.”

  


“I know. I sat at the other end of the table. How're you?” He crossed the room and gave his little cousin a hug. The older he grew, the more he began to look like his father.

  


“I'm wonderful. Hi, Luce.”

  


Lucy grinned and gave Rose a hug. “You look beautiful.”

  


“Wow, thank you.”

  


“Our parents are so dull, aren't they?” Lucy rolled her eyes. “I suggested we escape and do something more interesting. Molly was too 'grown up' to come and who the hell knows about Fred.”

  


“My brother is a giant sod,” said Roxanne. “Where's Lily?”

  


“She didn't want to get in trouble for drinking,” said Albus. “She's not even a prefect, yet she still is terrified to break any rules. She's sitting next to Dad and listening to their dull stories.”

  


“Lily doesn't have to drink if she doesn't want to. This is Scorpius,” said Rose, looking at Lucy and James. “I don't think you officially met him at dinner.”

  


“It's lovely to meet you,” said Lucy. “What year are you?”

  


“Seventh.”

  


“How long have you been dating?” 

  


“They're not,” interjected Albus, crossing the room and sitting down on top of the old trunk that sat underneath the window sill.

  


“You're not dating?” asked Lucy, looking confused. “Then why are you here? I thought this was your chance to meet the family.”

  


“They're friends,” answered Albus.

  


“Why are you speaking for me?” demanded Rose. Turning back to her other cousins, she said, “It doesn't really matter. It's a long story, but we're rather good friends, I suppose.” She looked at James' flatmate, hoping to change the subject. “Hello, we weren't really introduced. I'm Rose. I'm Hugo's older sister. Were you introduced to everyone else?”

  


“Yes. I'm David.” He held out his hand for Rose to shake. He was very tall and thin, with messy blonde hair and a wide smile. “I like your parents, they seem like great people.”

  


Rose sat back down on the bed, close to Scorpius, but not quite touching him. “Thanks. I'm quite fond of them.”

  


“Except when Mum's yelling at you for skiving off class,” laughed Hugo. He sat on the floor near Albus and took the bottle of wine from him.

  


“Since when do you drink?” asked Rose.

  


“It's holiday! I'm not a prefect at the Burrow!”

  


“You're a prefect?” asked David. He waved his wand, conjured a chair, and sat down. “Anyone else want a chair?”

  


“What's wrong with being a prefect?” asked Hugo, looking slightly distressed.

  


David conjured chairs for James, Roxanne, and Lucy. “Nothing,” he said as he pocketed his wand. “I was never a prefect – always got in too much trouble.”

  


“When were you at Hogwarts?”

  


“I wasn't. I went to the Salem Witches' Institute in the States.”

  


“Isn't that a girls' school?” asked Albus, looking confused.

  


“No,” replied David. “It was originally, but they invited wizards to join about twenty years ago. It was founded in the 1700s. My dad worked for Department of International Magical Cooperation and was an ambassador to the United States, so we moved there right before I began school. We didn't call them prefects in the States, though, but the idea was similar.”

  


“When'd you leave school?” asked Lucy. She waved her wand and Summoned the bottle of wine from Albus' hands. He looked both annoyed and impressed.

  


“Six years ago.”

  


“Same as me. I wasn't a prefect either.” Lucy laughed. “My father was so upset! He was a prefect and Head Boy.”

  


“Which one was--”

  


“The one with the glasses,” she replied, “and my mum was the blonde witch next to him.”

  


“You look like both of them. Your mum's hair and your dad's eyes. Anyhow, I hated all the Head Boys and Girls at Salem,” said David. He took the bottle from Lucy. “They were always so . . .” He made a hand gesture, suggesting he couldn't come up with the right words.

  


“Arrogant?” supplied Scorpius.

  


“Yes, and--”

  


“Know-it-alls?”

  


“Yes. That, too.”

  


“Bigheaded?”

  


“Yes!”

  


“I'm Head Boy.”

  


The room was silent . . . then everyone began to laugh. Rose caught Scorpius' eye; he winked. and taking the bottle from David, he drank from it, surprising Rose once more.

  


“It's like Hugo said, we're not in school right now.” He grinned and refilled Rose's wine glass.

  


“Thanks. So, David, where'd you and James meet?”

  


“Quidditch match – Wimbourne Wasps. I work for Magical Games and Sports. My flatmate had just got married and I needed someone to split the payments and James mentioned he still lived at home, even though he's far too old for that sort of nonsense.”

  


“I'm glad you were able to take him out of his shell a bit. James was rather introverted, wasn't he? You seem rather outgoing, so it's good he's got you as a mate.”

  


Albus snorted.

  


“What is your problem?” demanded Rose. “You've got such an attitude with everyone. Stop it.”

  


“He's going through a phase,” said James. “He started it when I left home and got a flat. I think he feels abandoned.”

  


“Oh,” said Rose. “That makes sense, actually. That makes it loads clearer! He's been a complete arse starting when I became friends with Scorpius – like I was abandoning him for someone else, because we were always best mates and then suddenly we weren't.”

  


“I'm sitting right here,” grumbled Albus.

  


“Albus always followed you around like a lost pygmy puff,” said Lucy. “Then you left school and he couldn't do that anymore – but at least you were home whenever he came back from school.”

  


“This is bollocks,” said Albus. “Everyone thinks they have me figured out.”

  


“That's because you're a bloke,” giggled Roxanne, “and completely transparent! Isn't that right, Rose?”

  


Rose nodded. “Absolutely.” She looked at Scorpius and grinned.

  


“I am transparent, am I?” he said.

  


“Absolutely!” said Rose again, laughing. 

  


Scorpius shook his head. “Give me that.” He took her wine glass and held it in his hand. “You're drunk.”

  


“I know, it's amazing. Drink up, Scorpius. We need to loosen you up.”

  


“I remember the first time I got drunk,” said Lucy. “I was a sixth-year and I sneaked out of the dormitory and went into the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. We got blankets--”

  


“Wait, stop,” said David. “Who is 'we'?”

  


“Me and my boyfriend at the time.”

  


“Ah,” said James, clearly remembering. “What was his name? Peter?”

  


“Peter Collingsworth,” corrected Lucy. “We dated for about a year, a good portion of which I don't even remember.”

  


“Why not?” asked Rose.

  


“Don't you know anything about Lucy?” asked James. “She was the biggest thistle smoker in all of Hogwarts.”

  


“ _What?_ ” cried Albus, Rose, and Roxanne simultaneously. 

  


“No way,” said Roxanne.

  


“I don't believe you,” added Rose.

  


“You're lying,” commented Albus. “No one smokes thistles at Hogwarts. Aren't there alarm spells that go off if that stuff is brought in school?”

  


“Which is why we always did it outside. The alarms were only if it was brought inside the castle, not on the school grounds. We got it from a fellow down at a pub in Hogsmeade.”

  


“I can't believe this,” said Rose. “This is just – I don't even know what to think. What kind of thistle was it? How'd you get the money to even buy it? That is the most illegal magical drug on the market.”

  


“You sure seem to know loads about it,” said Scorpius.

  


“Muggle Studies,” replied Rose. “We did a section on the Muggle black markets and compared them to our illegal trades. Some of the drugs Muggles have are actually wizard drugs, they just don't know it. It was a fascinating chapter. Think about it, though. Unsuspecting Muggles are taking drugs, seeing things, and having no idea that wizards are behind their visions. They're so ignorant, bless them.”

  


“You continually surprise me,” said Scorpius.

  


A smile tugged on Rose's lips, but she kept it hidden so Lucy could finish her story.

  


“Anyway, Peter's older brother owled us some vodka, which is Muggle alcohol, if you don't know. Peter was Muggleborn. We drank so much of that bottle. It didn't take long to make me ill and I got sick all over the blankets. Peter had to carry me back to school.”

  


“Did you get caught?”

  


Lucy shook her head. “No. James lent me the Invisibility Cloak, so no one saw us.”

  


“Unbelievable,” said Rose. “I had no idea you were so . . . _bad_. What would Uncle Percy say?”

  


“He never found out. My mum intercepted several owls from the Headmistress and never told him.”

  


“Wow,” said Roxanne. “Luce, I had no idea you were _fun_. I thought you were dull all these years.”

  


Lucy shrugged.

  


“Lucy, _dull_?” scoffed James. “Never. I can't believe you lot know nothing about us. Me and Lucy had loads of 'fun' in our Hogwarts days.”

  


“Molly and Uncle Bill's kids were the good ones,” said Lucy. “I mean, Victoire sneaked off with Teddy, but they didn't really do anything _bad_ as far as we know. Then the other two are just stuck-up.”

  


Scorpius looked surprised. “I thought the Weasley clan all liked one another.”

  


“We do,” said Rose, “but we've got a lot of relatives and you can't like everyone. . . .”

  


“They're okay, but we're not really _friends_ with them,” added Roxanne.

  


“Molly was fairly boring, too,” said Lucy. “I should know, I grew up with her.”

  


“You lot are really fascinating,” observed Scorpius. “My family is so proper. No one would have come up here to get drunk. There's never laughter or mirth at our family dinners.”

  


“Never?” asked Rose.

  


Scorpius shrugged. “Sometimes with my parents, though not often. My mum is actually quite witty, but the rest of my family . . .” His voice trailed off and he shrugged again. He drank Rose's wine and handed her the empty glass. She took it and looked inside, frowning.

  


“Er, where's my wine?”

  


“In my stomach.” 

  


“Hmph.”

  


“You're drunk already anyway.”

  


“I'm not drunk. I'm feeling pretty good, though.” She giggled.

  


“You're drunk,” confirmed David and Roxanne in unison.

  


“Mum's going to be _really_ upset . . .” worried Hugo.

  


“Mum is pissed herself downstairs. She gets all red in the face and doe-eyed at Dad. It's rather disgusting, actually.”

  


“That's why Christmas Eve dinners are so fantastic,” said Lucy. “Everybody's gay on Christmas, wishing each other a Happy Christmas and Happy New Year and the like. When we get together for dinner before September first, our parents are sad, y'know?”

  


Scorpius tapped Rose's wine glass and Summoned some of the wine from inside the bottle into her glass. She looked at him curiously, surprised by him, once again. He winked at her and she could tell by the look in his eye that he wanted to touch her, be close to her.

  


It only took a couple more sips of her wine for Rose to truly feel drunk. She laughed internally at herself; she normally wasn't the sort to drink so much alcohol. David and James told funny stories about the Ministry and professional Quidditch games they'd gone to. Lucy gossiped about all the rest of their cousins and told all the dirty secrets she knew. Hugo listened and laughed; Roxanne chimed in a couple of times herself, but mostly she just listened, too. Rose began to feel sleepy and dozed off, her head falling against Scorpius' shoulder.

  


When she woke, it was much later. Scorpius shook her gently. “Rose,” he said softly, “it's time to go.”

  


“What? How long was I asleep?”

  


“An hour or so. You got drunk and passed out more like. I don't know as if I'd call it 'sleep.'”

  


“Did I sleep on you?”

  


“Yes.”

  


“Sorry.”

  


“I didn't mind, but your brother and cousins just left about two minutes ago, so if we don't join them soon, someone will get suspicious.”

  


“I'm sure they already are.”

  


“I'm sure as well, but let's go so your parents don't get angry. It's after midnight anyway.”

  


Rose rubbed her eyes and nodded. “Happy Christmas,” she said.

  


Scorpius smiled. “Happy Christmas.”

  


XXXXXXX

  


Ron checked his watch. It was a quarter after four. Hermione was probably on her way to her parents' house with the kids. He wanted to be there, especially since it was Christmas Day. The owl had come an hour before, just as he was pulling on his good jumper and trousers. This year, Christmas dinner was to be spent at Hermione's parents and he'd let Hermione talk him into buying new clothes so he'd look particularly sharp. Unfortunately, the owl delivered a letter with the official Department seal on it and Ron had to go.

  


A few feet away, Harry appeared with a quiet _pop_. He looked as disgruntled as Ron felt.

  


“Hello,” said Harry. “You got my owl, then.”

  


“Obviously. Think this'll be over with in time for Christmas dinner?”

  


Harry shook his head. “I doubt it. We have to identify a body.”

  


“ _What_? Who?”

  


“Come on. Body identification can only be done by a trained Healer with those special potions and spells in case the body has been transfigured.”

  


“I understand,” said Harry, “I took all the necessary training to be an Auror so I know the rules, too. I already called the Healer in and she did everything. She gave me this” – Harry held up a rolled piece of parchment – “which has cause of death, but we need to finish up with the crime scene before we can release the body to her. Then she can finish running the rest of her spells, figuring out what potions are in the body and if there are any magical residues that can be traced to a particular witch or wizard.”

  


Ron shook his head. “This is unbelievable. Next time you offer me a job, I'm saying no.”

  


Harry sniggered. “Right. Sorry I got you into it.”

  


“It's so complicated. There are all those antiques found on the bodies, and some are worth thousands of Galleons while others are worthless and--” Ron stopped talking abruptly.

  


“What is it?” prompted Harry.

  


“I think . . . I might've figured a bit of it out.”

  


“Just now? What is it?”

  


“I can't – not now – I should relook at my files.”

  


“You sound like Hermione,” commented Harry, “back when we were at Hogwarts. Remember how she used to jump up and mumble a load of nonsense to us and run off to the library because she had some sort of revelation?”

  


“Yes, and I married her, God help me sometimes, so she's rubbed off on me. Let's look at that body real quick, yeah? I'd like to go home and reexamine everything. I think I've got a lead on something.”

  


Harry motioned for Ron to follow him. 

  


“Where are we, by the way?”

  


“We're in the woods near Wiltshire. The nearest house belongs to a couple from our world, so we'll have to question them soon.”

  


“Which family?”

  


Harry shrugged. “I think their surname was Bathurst. Frances and Harold or something like that.”

  


The names triggered Ron's memory. “Wait, I remember something about Bathursts . . . but . . . it was Francesca, I think. Francesca and Herbert.”

  


Harry walked through the woods, pushing branches out of his and Ron's way. “Where d'you remember those names?”

  


“In one of Draco's pages. I think they were customers of his. I can't remember for sure.”

  


“The body is over here. A Muggle found her and went to the police. One of our contacts in the Muggle police recognized this as a wizarding case and went to our emergency contact in the department, who immediately contacted me around noon. I didn't want to have to owl you until absolutely necessary so both of us wouldn't have to waste our Christmases. I haven't been out here yet. It was just loads of owls back and forth for hours. It drove Ginny mad.”

  


“My sister's very understanding.”

  


“She's brilliant. I really dunno what I'd do without her. Ah, here.” 

  


Harry stopped in a clearing between some of the trees. Two Aurors stood beneath the branches, wands raised, guarding the body on the ground. It was bound with blue wraps, almost like a mummy. It was standard in criminal cases; the magical wraps kept the body in the exact condition it was found, including all traces of magic.

  


“Hello, Harry,” said one of the Aurors.

  


“Happy Christmas, Lorcan,” replied Harry, sounding exhausted. “Thank you both for being here on Christmas. I apologize.”

  


“It was our turn for Christmas,” said the other Auror, “so I can't really complain – had the last two Christmases off meself.”

  


“Will you undo the wraps, please?”

  


The Auror called Lorcan waved his wand and the magical bindings unraveled from around the body. First came the limbs, which were blue from the cold, with a few freckles. Ron could make out bruises and cuts on her hands and arms. He remembered such injuries described as “defensive wounds” from his Auror training. His stomach turned: the wraps had just revealed the rest of the body.

  


“Oh – for _fuck's_ sake,” stammered Ron. He shook his head. “This is not happening.”

  


Harry sighed. “It's her, isn't it?”

  


“Yes.” Ron looked down at the young face before him. Her lips were thin and blue, her eyes sunken and the skin around them dark. Her hair looked like tangled string and almost brown from dirt and sweat, but Ron could still tell she was once blonde. Even in death, Astoria Greengrass Malfoy had a simplistic beauty. “Shit,” he said, “I'm gonna have to tell Scorpius that his mum was killed. It's my fault. I arrested her husband and made this all bloody happen. I should've taken better care of her, had guards around her at all times.”

  


“Don't blame yourself, you didn't use the Killing Curse, did you? No. So stop feeling guilty. Believe me, I know all about taking the blame and feeling guilty and it's exhausting.”

  


“What else d'you need from me?” asked Ron. “I'd like to get home and talk with Scorpius. Perhaps I should wait until after Christmas?”

  


“Then he'll be angry that you waited to tell him. I'd want to know immediately.”

  


“You're probably right.”

  


“Go home, Ron. Thanks for coming out. I needed you to see the body firsthand since you're in charge of the case.”

  


“I understand. Happy Christmas, Harry.”

  


“Happy Christmas, Ron.”

  


Ron turned and walked out of the wood the way they came. When he was back where he first Apparated to, he took out his wand and Disapparated back home, not ready to talk to Scorpius, but knowing it was what he had to do.

  


XXXXXXX

  


**To Be Continued . . .**

  


XXXXXXX


	10. Clear Cells

XXXXXXX

  


**Chapter Ten: Clear Cells**

  


XXXXXXX

  


Rose was full of food and felt very sleepy. Her mum took hold of Hugo and Side-Along Apparated home with him. 

  


“Know where you're going?” she asked Scorpius.

  


He nodded and they both Apparated back to her house, landing in the back garden. Dinner at Rose's grandparents was lovely, except her dad had an emergency at work and missed the whole thing. Scorpius wasn't as sociable as he had been at the Burrow, but her mum's parents were Muggles and he seemed completely lost in the conversation.

  


Hugo held the back door open for them and the three of them walked inside the kitchen. He rubbed his stomach, as though it ached from all the food they ate. Her dad stood by the sink, a glass of water in his hand, looking particularly pale. He whispered something in Rose's mum's ear, who immediately paled herself and gasped slightly.

  


“Hugo,” Rose's dad said, “why don't you go to the living room and see if you can't put together that new telescope?”

  


“All right,” replied Hugo slowly. He looked suspicious, but he left the kitchen.

  


“Rose, why don't you go help your brother? I need to talk to Scorpius.”

  


Rose hesitated. “Er,” she stuttered, “really?”

  


“Please.”

  


Rose looked up at Scorpius; he looked worried. She passed him on her way out the door, but he took hold of her wrist.

  


“Wait,” he said, “can she please stay?”

  


“I think that's okay,” said Hermione. She patted Ron's arm. “They're good friends, aren't you? Perhaps it'd be best for Scorpius to have a friend right now.”

  


Ron motioned for everyone to sit at the kitchen table. Rose sat next to Scorpius and grabbed his hand under the table. He was rigid and so still that he barely breathed. When she gave his hand a slight squeeze, he turned to look at her and his eyes were blank.

  


“Look, Scorpius,” began Ron, taking Scorpius' attention away from Rose, “Harry Potter and I went out to Wiltshire today--”

  


“Where the Bathursts live?” interrupted Scorpius. “Do they know where my mum is?”

  


“Er,” said Ron, looking slightly taken aback, “you know the Bathursts?”

  


“Sort of. My parents were friendly with them, had them around for dinner every so often.”

  


Ron nodded, as though he found this information interesting. “The thing of it is, we found your mother, but . . .” He took in a deep breath. “Your mother is . . . dead.”

  


Scorpius squeezed Rose's hand so hard, she almost yelped in pain. “Are you sure?”

  


“Yes, Harry and I went and identified her. Your father doesn't know yet. I think Harry's gonna tell him tomorrow. Look, you're welcome to stay here and we'll give you anything you need. Even when the school term is over, you can come back here and stay until you've got a job and are ready to be on your own. None of this is fair, I know that. In fact, it's probably one of the most unfair things that's happened. Your mum was innocent and we all know that – I wanted to find her and maybe I didn't try hard enough and I'm sorry for every role I played in the cause of her death.”

  


Scorpius shook her head. “No, don't apologize. Please.” Rose noted that he was blinking rather quickly. “Can I see my father?”

  


Ron took a quick intake of breath. “Strictly speaking, no. He's considered a high-threat prisoner and they're not allowed any visitors, so if the Department allowed it, it would have to be kept a secret. I don't have a problem with it myself, honestly, but arranging something like that may take a few days.”

  


“How did she die?”

  


“Murder,” replied Ron. “We are going to find who did this. It may take a while, but I'm going to put this right.”

  


“I need – I need to be – somewhere else.” Scorpius disentangled his hand from Rose's and stood. He walked quickly out of the kitchen; Rose heard the door to the study open and shut.

  


“Dad!” exclaimed Rose, feeling overwhelmed and panicked. “What should we do? I've never known anyone whose parents have died. I mean, how are we supposed to help him?”

  


“Dunno,” said Ron.

  


Hermione reached her hand across the table and took hold of her daughter's. “Rose, my love, there aren't easy answers to this. Go ask Scorpius what he wants. Maybe he needs a shoulder to cry on and you can be there for him when he needs it. If he wants to be alone, then let him alone.”

  


Rose shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “Why’d this have to happen?”

  


“Believe me,” said Ron, “I’ve been asking myself that for a while. You’ve no idea how guilty I feel. We’ve been working on this case for so long and we don’t have any answers.”

  


Rose looked at her father and saw that his eyes looked rather wet. She had never seen him cry before, except when he laughed so hard he could barely breathe. Her father was always so strong, so happy. To see him now, looking lost, guilty, and vulnerable, it killed her. Rose did not know this side of him; the case was beginning to break him and perhaps even breaking all of them.

  


“Rosie?” said Ron, looking concerned.

  


“Sorry,” mumbled Rose. “I’m feeling . . . I don’t know. Wrong. This is all wrong.”

  


“Go see if Scorpius is all right,” said Hermione, looking intently at Rose. “You can – _shit_!”

  


Rose jumped and turned around. A _crack_ resonated through the kitchen and Harry appeared out of thin air.

  


“You scared the shit out of Mum,” cried Rose.

“Don’t say ‘shit,’” scolded Hermione.

  


“You just did!”

  


“No, I didn’t.”

  


Ron laughed. “Yes, you did, love. Nice and loud, too.”

  


“Well, that’s because Harry scared me.” Hermione looked at him. “I should rethink the wards of my house. Perhaps I shouldn’t let you and Ginny Apparate directly into my kitchen. The back garden is better. Why did I change the spells anyway?”

  


“Because when Ginny was pregnant, she slipped outside in the mud and broke her ankle,” answered Ron, “almost seventeen years ago.”

  


Hermione frowned. “That long ago?”

  


“Yes. We’re getting old, Hermione.” Ron turned to Harry. “What’s up? Haven’t I seen enough of you today?”

  


“I need to talk to you.”

  


“Don’t tell me there’s been another development.”

  


Harry nodded. 

  


“I’ll leave you alone,” said Hermione. “And Rose has to talk to Scorpius anyhow.”

  


“No, sit,” instructed Harry. “You can hear this from me. Ron would tell you anyway, I’m sure, although Rose doesn’t need to hear. It’s really best if you don’t know any of this, Rose. I think we’re probably all in danger at this point. Innocence will at least keep you safe.”

  


Rose looked at her mother, who sat up straight, looking alarmed. “Excuse me? Are you serious? You think we’re all in danger? Even the kids?”

  


Harry pressed his lips together tightly and looked at Rose.

  


“All right, all right, I’m going,” said Rose, standing up. “But I’m going to find out sooner or later, you know.”

  


“No, you’re not,” said Harry. “No one is going to tell you a thing. Go.”

  


Rose pushed her chair under the table and swallowed against a worried lump in her throat. She’d never heard her uncle be so firm towards her before. She slowly walked through the kitchen and into the hallway. No voices came from the kitchen and she wondered if they had already sealed the kitchen shut against eavesdropping.

  


The door to the study was shut. Rose pressed her ear to the door, but no sounds came from the other side. She knocked lightly, but still no sound. Instead of waiting for an invitation, Rose opened the door and walked inside. She closed it behind her and looked at the camp bed her mother had set up in the room. Scorpius sat, leaned over, his elbows on his knees. His eyes were focused on his shoes and his cheeks were wet. Rose sat beside him, not sure if she should touch him, but wanting to.

  


“I don’t know if you want to be alone,” said Rose, “but I want to do whatever you need me to do.”

  


Scorpius remained silent, but he took in a deep breath. He turned his head and looked at Rose; she’d never seen him so sad. Then, as though an invisible cord pulled them together, her arms were around him, his head was on her shoulder, and her body swallowed his cries as he shook with the weight of his tears.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Her name was Charlotte Barnaby. She had very curly blonde hair and dark eyes. Her skin was pale and while she was once rather plump, her body had become hard and bony, her hips sticking out at awkward angles and her elbows protruding from her arms. She wasn’t sure the last time she’d eaten anything that hadn’t been stolen off of window sills or from trash bins. She’d slowly made her way across Britain towards the Ministry. Her wand was broken in seven pieces, so she had to rely on wit and instinct to survive. She didn’t know what day it was, but because of the snow and lights, she knew it was Christmastime. When she took the phone booth entrance to the Ministry, she suddenly felt safe.

  


She passed out in front of the fountains, but when she came to, she was looking into the face of Harry Potter. She’d never seen him before, but the scar was unmistakable.

  


“What’s your name?”

  


Charlotte tried to sit up. Her brain felt like sushi in her head. “Ugh,” she groaned.

  


“I know who you are,” said Harry. “We have Readers at the Ministry who scanned you and you came up as a Missing Persons. Do you know your name, though?” 

  


Charlotte looked over at the other people in the room. There were only two other people there. One was a tall wizard with ginger hair, the other a witch in all white with a long braid down her back.

  


“Yeah,” said Charlotte. “Charlotte.”

  


“I’m Harry. This is Ron and Rachael. Ron works for me in Magical Law Enforcement and Rachael is one of my most trusted Healers. D’you know where you are?”

  


“The Ministry. I dunno the room.” Charlotte’s head felt fuzzy. She shook her head, trying to clear it. She looked around the room again. She realized she had been lying on a table in what looked like a conference room. 

  


“Here,” said the ginger-haired Ron, crossing the room. He helped her off the table and into a chair where she sat down quickly. “Are you all right?”

  


“Is it Chris’mas?”

  


“Yes,” said Rachael. “Can you follow my wand?” 

  


Charlotte watched Rachael’s wand as it went up and down, then left and right. The end glowed pink.

  


“She looks all right,” said Rachael. “Undernourished, a bit dehydrated. I want to get her to St. Mungo’s where she can rest and get some healing potions in her. She needs food and drink.” Rachael looked intently at Harry. “The Ministry kitchens aren’t open on Christmas, so I can’t Summon anything. The elves get off, but I get called in.”

  


“I’m sorry,” said Charlotte. “I didn’t know it was Chris'mas. I’ve bin on the run fer months so I lost all track o’ time.”

  


“It’s fine,” said Ron. “We’re not upset. Listen, we’ll get you some food, but we need to hear your story first.”

  


“Am I safe here?” asked Charlotte. 

  


“Yes,” said Harry. “You can trust us.”

  


“I came all the way to the Ministry ‘cause I know since you took over Magical Law, corruption an’ crime has gone down. I knew I could trust you.” Charlotte coughed. “Sorry.”

  


“You can cough,” said Ron with a laugh. He sat down in the chair next to Charlotte. “Talk to us.”

  


Harry turned to Rachael. “Do you have any draughts or potions that’ll help her feel better until we take her to St. Mungo’s?”

  


Rachael nodded. “Yeah, I've got something. Hold on.” She picked up a small bag from another chair and rummaged inside. She pulled out seven bottles of potions before uncorking one and handing it to Charlotte. “Bottomless spell. Take one sip of this and you’ll feel really warm and much better.”

  


Charlotte took the bottle. “Thanks.” She sipped it. As the potion went down the back of her throat, warmth spread down through her stomach and arms and legs and she immediately felt better. “Where should I start?”

  


“The beginning.” Harry sat down in a chair across from her. “Your parents reported you missing to us in August, but we didn’t have any evidence to go on.”

  


Charlotte nodded and tears sprung into her eyes. “I went to a party with some friends from work. I’mma clerk at a bookshop in Diagon Alley. It’s smaller than Flourish and Blotts and we don’t sell schoolbooks, jus’ novels and fictions, some Muggle stories that’re pop’lar. A wizard had come in earlier that day with a flyer ‘bout a party. We went and the next thing I remember I was waking up in a box.”

  


“A box?”

  


“Well, a room ‘bout the size of a box. Everythin’ was hard and cold, no furniture. My mum’s a Muggle and she got me in one of those self-defense classes. She never trusted magic ‘cause you could lose a wand, y’know? My wand was in that room in, like, seven pieces. A wizard came into that room and he had a ring he was flipping in the air an’ catching. He was real big, hairy, but I fought him. I may not look like much now, but I was strong . . . y’know, when I had three meals a day.”

  


“You fought him?” asked Ron.

  


“Yeah. Then I ran. They chased me for, like, three weeks before they lost my trail. Then I had to figure out where I was. I went back to the house they had kept me in an’ I watched an’ listened. I wanted to see if I could get the other people out, but I saw it was jus’ too big fer one person. I needed the backup of, well, you. The Ministry.”

  


“What happened at the house?” asked Harry, sitting on the edge of his seat.

  


“They kept all kinds o’ people. Witches. Wizards. Muggles. I was worth, like, ten-thousand Galleons ‘cause I was part-Muggle. Muggles were worth one-thousand Galleons. Half-bloods were ten-thousand. Muggle-borns were fifteen-thousand.”

  


“Fifteen-thousand for what?”

  


Charlotte looked confused. “You dunno yet? To kill us.”

  


“ _What_?” both Harry and Ron said in unison. 

  


“Who pays fifteen-thousand Galleons to kill a Muggle-born?”

  


“Purists,” said Charlotte. “You know, those crazed purebloods who want nothin’ more than to get rid of all the Muggle-borns and half-bloods? Muggles aren’t worth so much because they’re easy to kill. Half-bloods still have some good blood so they’re more expensive than Muggles, but those Muggle-borns – it was like they were the worst kind of wizard so they cost the most. Fifteen-thousand Galleons bought a day, like a full twenty-four hours, with the Muggle-born and you could do whatever you wanted before you killed ‘em.” Charlotte coughed again.

  


“I should really get her to St. Mungo’s,” Rachael said.

  


“Hold on,” said Harry. “You said the wizard was flipping a ring in the air. What kind of ring?”

  


Charlotte shrugged. “Dunno. It was real fancy, though. My parents were always poor and barely could afford secondhand books for me when I went to Hogwarts. I never saw such a fancy ring.”

  


“Do you remember what it looked like?”

  


“Um, gold, I guess. With a green stone.”

  


Harry swished his wand in the air. The door to the conference room opened and a book through the doorway; it landed in front of Harry. He flipped through it, page after page. “Here. Listen to this description: 'Gold band with rose carvings, green oval-shaped smooth stone.'”

  


“Er, I guess. I don’t remember if there were carvings on the band, but maybe.”

  


“That ring was written down to be worth three-thousand Galleons in Malfoy’s books, but Arturo Gallows paid him nearly five-thousand for it.”

  


“What’re you thinking, Harry?” asked Ron.

  


“The antiques is a cover for this murder ring. Draco Malfoy finds antiques and sells them to Arturo who ‘sells’ them to his clients. The ring was worth three-thousand, but Arturo buys it for five. Then his clients pay Arturo ten for the ring, a profit of five-thousand. The client takes the ring and gets twenty-four hours to torture and kill a half-blood witch or wizard.”

  


“That’s the sickest thing I’ve ever heard,” whispered Rachael. She sunk into a chair. 

  


Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Wow. I ne’er would’ve figured that out.”

  


“We had information you didn’t,” said Harry, “and you gave me enough information in return to figure out the rest. Rachael, why don’t you get what you need from St. Mungo’s – Food, potions, whatever – because we need to take official statements from Charlotte.”

  


Rachael didn’t move. Her eyes were wide, her face pale. “I didn’t know wizards could be so sick . . . so deranged.”

  


“Rachael. Focus. Go get what you need from St. Mungo’s.”

  


Rachael looked at Harry and nodded. “Yes. I’m going, I’m going.”

  


As Rachael got up and left, Harry Summoned a magical quill and parchment. “This will write down exactly what is said in this room. It never makes a mistake, so everything it writes becomes official record. It’s magically sealed so that the words can never be erased and the paper cannot be destroyed by fire or any other methods. So, are you ready to tell your story?”

  


XXXXXXX

  


For the next few days, Scorpius was in a daze. Rose noted that even though he didn’t talk much, even to her, he still always thanked her mum for making meals. He tried to study, but his eyes were glazed and Rose knew he wasn’t actually remembering anything he read. He wanted to see his father, but because of what her father called “politics,” they weren’t going to be able to see one another until Ron could pull some strings. Rose didn’t even have a chance to question her father, for he had only popped home once since Christmas to shower and get fresh robes. Hermione looked worried, but Rose supposed her mother _always_ looked worried.

  


Over lunch one day, Rose picked at her homemade chips. Scorpius sat next to her at the table, Hugo across from her. Her mother had finally sat down after several minutes and began to eat her sandwich.

  


“Mum? Can we go to Diagon Alley? I want to some new Quidditch gloves.”

  


“No, I don't think so.”

  


Rose blinked twice in surprise. “What? Really? Just Diagon--”

  


“I said no.”

  


“What if Dad--”

  


“Your father is not going. He's working.”

  


“But--”

  


“ROSE! I said _no_.”

  


Both Scorpius and Hugo looked very uncomfortable. Hugo coughed and took a long drink of his pumpkin juice. Rose chomped down on a chip in frustration. She was tired of being inside her house; there wasn't anything to do and she wasn't about to pick up a schoolbook and study. She tried to watch the Muggle television her parents had, but everything just bored her. She wanted to go to Diagon Alley and break up the monotony, but also she thought it might help pull Scorpius out of his bad mood. Of course she couldn't _blame_ him for being so upset, but she was getting overly frustrated because she felt as though she couldn't help him feel better.

  


“Your father is supposed to come get Scorpius later this afternoon so he can see his father.” Hermione looked at Scorpius. “You still want to go, don't you?”

  


Scorpius nodded. “Yes, ma'am.”

  


“Can I--?”

“We're all going.”

  


Rose was taken aback. “Really?”

  


“Even me?” asked Hugo. “Because I have loads of reading I need to catch up on.”

  


“Yes, you're coming with us.”

  


“Why?”

  


“I think it's best if we stick together. I don't want you to stay home by yourself.”

  


“I'm sixteen years old! Well, nearly. I get better marks than Rose. I could probably take care of myself better than she could if something happened.”

  


“Please do not argue with me.” Hermione had a warning tone.

  


“Rose could stay with me?” Hugo persisted.

  


“I doubt Rose wants to stay here with you.” Hermione gave her daughter a knowing look. Rose flushed. “We're all going together.”

  


“Are you worried that something'll happen to us?” asked Rose. “Are we in danger?”

  


“No, of course not.”

  


“You're a rotten liar.”

  


“I'm not lying.” Hermione sat up straight in her chair, a signal to let them know the discussion was over. “Now, do you fancy the chips? I may have added too much salt.”

  


“I like how you made lunch like a Muggle,” said Scorpius. “Er, perhaps that didn't come out quite right.”

  


“That's all right, I understood.” Hermione smiled softly. “My mother taught me how to cook. She felt very disconnected from my life in many ways. She is a dentist, but when she was a little girl, my grandmother taught her how to cook. She passed on many of those secrets to me during my summer holidays from school.”

  


Scorpius pushed his plate away. “I'm sorry . . . if you'll excuse me.” He quickly got up and left the room. 

  


“Mum,” said Rose, “I--” She stopped talking as an unexpected lump rose in the middle of her throat. She shook her head. “Never mind,” she whispered.

  


“Rosie, love.” Hermione also seemed at a loss for words. “Go.”

  


Rose shot up from the table and followed Scorpius. He had gone outside and was crouching down in the grass, next to one of the large trees in their back garden. His fingers were twisted in his hair and he seemed to be barely breathing. Rose knelt next to him. Scorpius sniffed hard and she could see that his cheeks were wet. 

  


“How can I help you?” 

  


Scorpius shook his head. “You can't. I don't know. I can't talk right now.”

  


“I know you're upset. I can clearly see that, but I don't want you to completely shut down me. I want you to look at me and talk to me and tell me exactly how you're feeling, because I'm scared.”

  


“Scared of what?”

  


“Of losing you.”

  


“Of sod off, Rose.”

  


Rose blinked. She had no idea what to say. She clamped her lips together and fought back her own tears.

  


“My mother died and I loved her dearly, like I think most kids love their mothers. It's only been a couple days since I even found out about it. I haven't been able to see my father, who has probably lost all of his marbles by now. He was deeply, _deeply_ in love with my mum. He'll never be the same. I don't know how long he'll be at the Ministry. I don't know when he'll come home, if he'll ever come home, so right now I feel like a complete orphan. I don't have any family. My aunt Daphne would sooner have me live and struggle on my own than help care for me. There's still an entire term left of school before I can take the N.E.W.T.s, so there are still several months where I have a place to live, but even once the term is over, I have no idea if I will be able to get a job. I may have to stay in hiding – away from these wizards who killed my mum. I may have to go in to hiding for the rest of my life. Have you ever thought of that?

  


“Your father arrested my father,” continued Scorpius, “and he didn't find my mother before she was killed. If he's the best Auror around, along with Harry Potter, then I doubt anyone could have found my mum before she died. I'm not angry with him. I probably should be, but I'm not. I can't possibly be angry with him. That would be too much to bear. I can't feel more than I am already feeling. This sense of . . . non-belonging and heartache I have for my mother right now is more than I've ever felt in my entire life. _You_ are all I have right now. I am not going to give that up, so whatever worries you have about losing me are right crap, Rose. Let me be upset without thinking it's an affront to you, because it's not. Do you understand?”

  


Rose nodded. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

  


“Don't apologize and don't talk. I don't want to hear anything right now. I need to just be in silence for a while. Do you understand that?”

  


Rose nodded again.

  


Scorpius sat all the way down next to the tree, leaning against its trunk. He pulled Rose to him and hugged her tightly. He breathed in and Rose imagined him drinking in the scent of her, growing intoxicated with it – anything to fill his mind with thoughts other than his family and what was happening with his life.

  


“You'll always have me,” whispered Rose. “Always.”

  


She felt Scorpius nod against her hair and they sat in silence until Hermione called for them, letting them know it was time to go to the Ministry to see Draco Malfoy.

  


XXXXXXX

  


Rose had visited the Ministry and had even been in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but she had never seen where the prisoners were kept. Hermione told her all about it while they waited for Ron to come get Scorpius. Normally, witches and wizards were only kept there during trials and appeals before being sent to Azkaban. The cells were in a very long hallway. There weren't any doors, just blank holes in the walls. Ron told her that only the wizarding guards could see who was in each cell, which was protected by a spell very similar to the Fidelius Charm. 

  


They all met in a conference room. Rose stood by the table and watched Scorpius pace. Hugo sat next to Hermione next to the table. Rose hadn't seen her father since they arrived at the Ministry almost thirty minutes before. When he finally entered the room, Rose had the urge to go to him and throw her arms around him, like she'd done when she was little and Ron had come home from work after being gone all day. Instead, she stayed firmly planted where she stood and put her hand on the back of her mother's chair. Ron glanced at each of them, but nodded towards Scorpius.

  


“Are you ready?”

  


Scorpius went to the door and passed Ron, but then hesitated and turned back. “Will you come with me?”

  


Rose nodded.

  


“I don't—” began Ron, but Hermione interrupted, “It's okay, Rosie, go ahead.”

  


Rose didn't hesitate. She immediately went to Scorpius and took his hand; if her parents hadn't figured out they were seeing each other by now, then they must have been Confunded. He smiled at her, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. Rose was curious to see the cells; she just hoped Scorpius' father wasn't too addled from being in those cells. Her father didn't look at her as they walked from the conference room to the cells. Rose took note of this but didn't say anything. If she was honest with herself, she wouldn't know what to say. She hadn't seen him in a few days and she could only imagine the guilt he was feeling, behind the Head Auror on this case and having it fall apart in front of him.

  


The door that led to the cells was large and thick. It looked like steel with twelve magical locks. To unlock each one, Ron tapped on them with his wand, but each lock had a different sequence of taps. When he finished, the door dissolved in front of them. Scorpius' grip on Rose's hand tightened. She looked into the first cell, but it just looked like an open doorway with nothing inside. Rose wondered how many cells were actually occupied.

  


Ron stopped in front of the fourth cell down. He looked inside for a moment before turning around.

  


“Your father's in here. You can only enter if I come inside with you or let the shield down. I'll leave you in there and when you're ready to come out, you can call for me.”

  


“I don't see him in there,” Scorpius stated.

  


“No, even though you know he's in there, you won't be able to see him until you pass through the doorway. Only I can see him. When you're inside, you can see out. That's how the charm is designed.”

  


“That's really powerful magic, isn't it?” asked Rose.

  


“Your mum helped create it.”

  


“Of course she did,” laughed Rose.

  


“We'll wait out here for you. Talk freely, but quietly. Rose won't be able to hear you, but I can. Your father is very angry with me, as he should be. I failed you both--”

  


“Can I please see my dad?” interrupted Scorpius.

  


“Yeah, I'm sorry.”

  


“He rambles when he's upset,” said Rose apologetically.

  


Scorpius let go of her hand and followed Ron through the doorway. Rose watched them disappear. A moment later, Ron reappeared. He touched her shoulder and guided her towards the steel door, which had reappeared after they had walked through it. Ron stopped before they could walk through it again.

  


“Can they hear me when I talk?” asked Rose. 

  


“Yes, but I doubt they're paying attention.”

  


“What about the prisoners in the other cells?”

  


“The only other cells that are occupied are six and ten, further down the corridor. Except for the case with Malfoy, crime has been really low in our world. Or so says Harry.”

  


“When can his dad get out of jail?” asked Rose, quickly changing the subject.

  


Ron looked at Rose. She had never seen his eyes look so sad.

  


“Soon, very soon. We're ready to make an arrest.”

  


“Are you really?” asked Rose, getting excited.

  


“Yes, but please keep that quiet. Draco Malfoy knows now and he'll probably tell Scorpius, but don't tell your brother.”

  


“Does Mum know?”

  


“Yes. It's very dangerous right now. We're not sure we're going to send you back to Hogwarts when the holidays are over.”

  


“Are you serious? But it's my seventh year! I have to go back.” Rose stopped. “Wait. What am I saying? I would love not to go back to school. Can I skip my N.E.W.T.s? Because I don't really want to sit for those.”

Ron smirked. “It may not be safe enough for you and Scorpius.”

  


“What about Hugo?”

  


“He may still go to school.”

“Why not me and Scorpius? I mean, I understand if Scorpius can't go, because of his mum and dad, but why me?”

  


Ron gave his daughter a pointed look. “Your mum and I may be getting old, but we're not completely daft, you know.”

  


“Oh. . . .”

  


“We know you're a – a – a couple.”

  


“Oh.”

  


“And we'll talk about keeping secrets from your parents another time.”

  


Rose felt her ears grow hot.

  


“Right, anyway. These people Draco got involved with are very dangerous. Perhaps the most dangerous we've encountered since Voldemort, only in a very different way.”

  


“How so?”

  


“Voldemort used Dark magic and he himself, by himself, was unstoppable. Then on top of that, he had followers. These wizards now have a network, several of them who work for one wizard. Because there are so many of them and we don't know where or who they are, it is dangerous for any of us involved in the case. Your mother and I are worried if we let you go to Hogwarts, you could get hurt.”

  


“How could we get hurt at school? The Headmistress has put up loads of protection spells.”

  


“We trust Professor McGonagall. It's _you_ we don't trust.”

  


Rose almost laughed. “Are you serious?”

  


“I know one of you has the Marauder's Map and someone else has the Invisibility Cloak. All the Weasleys pass it around from year to year. I also know Lucy found two new secret passages to Hogsmeade and added them to the map. _And_ a passage to some secret chamber underneath the lake.”

  


“How d'you—?”

  


“I have spies.”

  


“Professor Longbottom,” exclaimed Rose, “I _knew it_. He's always feeding you information, isn't he?”

  


Ron shrugged noncommittally.

  


“But you found someone to arrest? So that means Scorpius' dad can go home, right?”

  


“As soon as we make the arrests. Look, Rosie, this is much bigger than we first thought. Harry and I are gonna try to move him to a safe house somewhere under the Fidelius Charm. He'd still be a prisoner, because he couldn't leave the house, but at least he'd be able to be in a house and have a few visitors, like Scorpius. It may take anywhere from a few weeks to a few months to gather more evidence and find the wizards responsible for what's been happening.”

  


“All the murders, you mean?”

  


“Murders, disappearances. Yes.”

  


Rose nodded. “I should probably be more scared than I am, yeah?”

  


“You haven't seen any of it firsthand, so it's hard to be scared of something you haven't seen. Believe me, I know. When Voldemort was alive, there was a while when I wasn't scared but then I _saw_ it, and it changed things.”

  


“Dad, I think you're a great Auror.”

  


“Rose, please,” scoffed Ron. “You've never known me as an Auror.”

  


“But I've heard stories from Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny. And Mum has loads of stories about you, too.”

  


“Rosie, don't believe – wait, Scorpius is calling for us.”

  


“That was really quick, wasn't it?”

  


Rose watched her father enter the cell and then exit a moment later with Scorpius. She looked at him quizzically, but he seemed to avoid her gaze. Ron opened the main door and they walked through it. Ron led the way back to the conference room, where Hermione and Hugo waited. Before they entered the room, Scorpius stopped Rose.

  


“Are you okay?” asked Rose. “You didn't talk to your father very long.”

  


“No,” said Scorpius, “but I may need your help with something.”

  


“Okay . . . what is it?”

  


“Getting my father out of jail.”

  


XXXXXXX

  


**To Be Continued . . .**

  


XXXXXXX


	11. 11. Emerald Flames and Invisible Words

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Eleven: Emerald Flames and Invisible Words**

XXXXXXX

 

_January 2024_

XXXXXXX

            Hermione seemed to always be around, which didn't give Scorpius and Rose much time to be alone.  New Years’ Eve came and went, and her parents didn't go to the usual party at her Uncle Harry’s house.  For the past five years, Harry and Ginny had hosted a party for all their adult friends.  James, Albus, and Lily would come over and stay the night with Rose and Hugo.  James was old enough by that time that their parents allowed him to be in charge, but truthfully, they were always well-behaved.  This year, her parents refused to go.

 

            There were just two days left in the holiday and no one had spoken to how they were going to get back to school.  Hugo asked if they were going to take the Hogwarts Express or the Knight Bus.  Ron's response was, “We haven't decided yet.  Pass the corn.”  Rose couldn't stand this state of unknowing that her parents were putting her through.  After dinner that same night, Rose and Scorpius exchanged a knowing look and Rose retreated outside.  Her mum warned her not to go outside the protection wards that extended into the back garden.  There was a large tree that marked the boundary.  Rose pulled on her school cloak, fastening it around her neck, and walked through the frosty grass.

 

            It took only moments before Scorpius walked outside and joined her.  He placed his hand behind her ear, cradling her head, and kissed her mouth.  His weight pushed against her, until her back was pressed against the tree, and she breathed in his kiss, opening her lips to welcome him.  

 

            Rose pushed Scorpius away.  “My parents,” she whispered, “might see.”  She walked around to the other side of the tree, taking Scorpius' hand.  Unless her parents or brother came outside, the tree blocked their view from every window of the house.  “We need to talk about your father--”

 

            “I haven't kissed you in days,” said Scorpius, kissing her jawline.  “We'll talk about him” - another kiss, below her ear - “later, yeah?”

 

            “But--”

 

            Scorpius kissed her mouth again, swallowing her objections.  He pushed her cloak away and reached for her hips, lifting her jumper and placing his hands on her skin.  His touch was warm and she invited it, invited his hands to slide over her.  

 

            “We can't,” he breathed, “I know.”  He pulled back and kissed her forehead, the corners of her eyes, her nose.  

 

            “I love you,” said Rose quickly.  

 

            Scorpius smiled, albeit sadly, and nodded.  He stepped away and fixed her cloak back over her shoulders.  “I know you want to talk about my father and how I want to help him escape.”

 

            “Yes, it's completely ridiculous.  You're going to get yourself arrested – or killed – or both!  You've completely lost your marbles.”

 

            “My marbles?  I haven't lost anything.”

 

            “You're so clever, why are you doing this?”

 

            Scorpius shook his head.  “It has nothing to do with cleverness, Roser.”

            

            “Then why are you going to do such a _mad_ thing?”

 

            “It's not mad.  Look, my father deserves the right to avenge my mother's death.  I know it sounds mad and barmy and whatever else to you, but it is something he desires to do.  Someone kidnapped her and killed her and it was because of him.  I mean, because of his business.  He feels guilty.”

 

            “No fucking way,” said Rose, growing cross.  “Revenge is a horrid idea.  I know you wish someone would kill the men who killed her, but – did you just call me 'Roser' a moment ago?”

 

            “Heat of the moment.  I thought it was funny.”

 

            “Hmph.  Anyway.  How are we going to break your father out of prison?”

 

            “I have a few ideas – did you just say 'we'?”

            

            “Oh, did I?  Why, yes, I suppose I did.”

 

            “You're cheeky but mad.  You're not helping.  I couldn't ask you to do that, not when your father is the Head Auror on this case.  I won't ask you to choose between me and your family.”

 

            “You're not making me choose.  I want to help you.  What ideas do you have?”

            

            “They're going to move my father to a safe house.  He'll still be a prisoner there, unable to leave.  I have been studying my counter-charms and I am going go try to take down the protection wards on the house, the ones that keep my father from being able to leave.”

 

            “My mother helped design those protection spells,” said Rose.  “Did you know that?” 

 

            “I figured as much.”

 

            “But that will be next to impossible.”  Rose shook her head.  “I don’t know of anyone who is clever enough to break down one of her protection spells, at least not in one afternoon.  That sort of thing would take time – days!  I don’t think it’s a good idea anyway, there has got to be something better.”

 

            “I thought of ambush.”

 

            “Ambush?  You really _are_ mad, then, aren’t you?  You mean when the Aurors take your father from the Ministry and to the new house?  No, they won’t take him out of the Ministry.”

 

            Scorpius ran his fingers through Rose’s hair.  “How do you think--?”

 

            “Floo Network, straight to the safe house.”

 

            “Then that’s what we’ll have to do, re-network the Network.”

            

            Rose let out a hearty laugh.  “ _Again_ , you’re mad.  You’re absolutely bonkers.”

 

            Scorpius dropped his hands.  “Rosie. . . .”

 

            “My dad calls me ‘Rosie.’”

 

            “Just trying it out.  Roser is better anyway.”

 

            “And if I called you ‘Scorpio’ or ‘Scorpy’ or—”

 

            “No, thank you.  I don’t think nicknames fit me.  Let’s get back to our problem.”

 

            “Fine.”  Rose sighed; her breath curled like smoke in the air.  “I’ll help you, but it makes me nervous.  My father will feel so betrayed.”

 

            “Then don’t help me.  I won’t blame you if you don’t.  Believe me, I am not going to make you choose between me and your family.”

 

            “Listen, perhaps you can talk to my father about accompanying your father through the Floo Network to the safe house.  Once you’ve both gone through, you can magic it shut from inside the house.  Then no one would be able to get through the fireplace and you can leave the house.”

 

            “Not with the wards up,” said Scorpius.  “That’ll be the trick.”

 

            “Perhaps if you’re granted passage through the protection barriers, then your father can leave with you – the same way the prison cells inside the Ministry are charmed.”

 

            “That is entirely possible.  I suppose we could always try and find out.”

 

            Rose shrugged.  “What will you do once you’ve taken him away from the safe house?”

 

            “To the Bathursts.”

 

            “The Bathursts?” repeated Rose.

 

            “My mother was found near their property.  My father did business with Herbert Bathurst and his wife, Francesca, often called upon my mother.  Her body was found near their house.  I know your father brought them in for questioning, but the search of their house turned up nothing, according to him.”

 

            “What makes you think you would find anything my father didn’t?”

 

            “Because _my_ father knows about Dark magic.  Your father still believes in the good of people.  My father gave up that belief a long time ago.”

 

            Rose sighed again.  “This scares me, Scorpius, it really does.  Will you go with him?  Your father, I mean.”

 

            “Yes, I can’t abandon him.  I can’t stand by and watch my father stay imprisoned and I can’t allow the men who killed my mother to just walk free.”

 

            “But my father—”

 

            “Has done so much already, yes, I know.  He just hasn’t found the people responsible yet and my father doesn’t want to wait any longer.  I want to help him.”

 

            “You’ll come back, won’t you?”

 

            “I’ll do my best.”

 

            “That’s not really good enough.  I won’t help you if you aren’t going to come back.”

 

            Scorpius drew Rose to him, hugging her to his chest.  “Of course I want to come back.  Don’t believe anything less.  I love you.”

 

            Rose hugged his middle and breathed in his warm scent.  “I am so scared,” she said, “really scared.”

 

            “Enough talk of this tonight.”  Scorpius kissed the top of her head before pulling away slightly.  He reached for her chin and tilted her head up, kissing her mouth.  Rose took a step back and let herself rest against the tree.  Her fingers undid the button of Scorpius’ trousers and when she slipped her hand inside, all thoughts of prisons and safe houses were lost.

 

XXXXXXX

 

            Rose woke up two days later and looked at her alarm clock.  It was only half past five.  Her eyes drifted over to her window; it was still as dark as night outside.  Today was supposed to be the day they went back to Hogwarts, but nothing had been spoken about it.  Rose was still not sure if she would ever go back to school.  She knew Hugo would have a heart attack if he couldn’t go back, but her parents knew that already.  Grabbing her wand, Rose slipped out of bed, walked to the door, and opened it very slowly, careful to keep it from squeaking.

 

            She crept down the hallway, hoping not to wake anyone, and went to the stairs.  Halfway down, she heard voices, so she stopped and listened.  It was her parents, probably in the kitchen.  They were up far too early; it made Rose suspicious.

 

            “ _Accio Extendable Ears!_ ” she whispered harshly.  She held out her free hand and the eavesdropping device flew into it.  She put one end in her ear and used her wand to move the other end down the hallway and to the kitchen.  She sat on the stairs as she immediately began to pick up her parents' conversation.

 

            “So it's decided,” said her mother.

 

            “Yeah, I s'pose so.”  Her father sighed heavily.  Rose could picture him, sitting at the table, his head in his hands.  Lately he had looked so sad, so tired, so unlike his usual self.  “D'you really think it'll be safe for Hugo to return to Hogwarts?”

 

            “The Headmistress is aware of everything that is going on,” said Hermione.  “She'll keep him safe.  He won't be happy that he'll have to miss Hogsmeade visits, but I don't think he'll sneak out like Harry did when we were third-years.  He's a rule follower.  I hope Rose isn't too upset about not going back.  Are you _sure_ she's in danger?”

 

            “No,” said Ron, “I'm not.  But we both know she and Scorpius are”  – Ron coughed – “a couple.    She kept it a secret from us, but since she's gone at school for such long periods of time, there's no way to know for how long they've been together.  We should really talk to them.  Well, no, forget it.  _You_ should talk to her.  About . . . you know . . . stuff.”

 

            “Stuff, Ron?  But whatever do you mean by ‘stuff’?  Are you referring to sex?  Because I’ve always felt that if you’re not mature enough to say the word, you’re not mature enough to do the deed.”

 

            “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Hermione.”

            

            Rose heard her mother laugh.  There was a long pause then her mother resumed talking.  “It’s true, of course.  We don’t know how long they’ve been together.  And yes, they kept it a secret from us, but I can understand why they did such a thing, not knowing how we might react.  We were once enemies of Draco Malfoy, so we could still be enemies today for all they knew.  We should sit down with her though.  I cannot believe I haven’t done so already.  I suppose I’ve been preoccupied and busy with my own work and your case and trying to keep everyone’s mind off of Malfoy.”

 

            “It’s all right.  We all understand.  And to answer your earlier question, Rose will be fine.  I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed not to have to go to school.”

 

            “It’s funny, isn’t it?  How we didn’t go our seventh year and now Rose will miss hers.”

 

            “Funny is not the word I’d use, love,” said Ron.

 

            “When are you moving Malfoy?”

 

            “The safe house is ready now.  You put your spells up yesterday and one of my newbie Aurors moved a bunch of furniture in after you left.  I don’t think anything matches, but it’s better than a prison cell at the Ministry.  I’ll go to the Ministry and help move Draco after I drop Hugo off at the train station.”

 

            “What of the Bathurst house?” asked Hermione.  “You said you lot were going to investigate it again?”

 

            “We did a preliminary search, but we came up dry.  The new laws really prevent us from being able to just tear a house apart.  They are modeled after some Muggle laws, actually--”

 

            “Ron,” interrupted Hermione, in a knowing tone that Rose knew very well, “I wrote many of those laws.  They’re for the protection of the innocent.  Keeps Aurors from just going into houses and ruining possessions and ripping open sofas.  You have to know exactly what you’re looking for before you can simply knock down a door.”

 

            “You realize how much harder you’ve made my job?  Besides, we’ve got magic to fix things.”

 

            “Not quite the point, Won-won.”

            

            “Amusing.”

 

            “So tell me what’s happening with the Bathurst house.  I don’t trust your plan.”

 

            Just as Ron was about to answer, someone whispered, “ _Boo!_ ” in Rose’s ear.  She almost fell off the stair.  Her brother sat next to her, holding his hand over his mouth to silent his laughter.

 

            “I could kill you, you little tit.”

 

            “Shh, don’t be so loud,” said Hugo.  

 

            “Why’re you awake?”

 

            “I heard your door squeak.  It woke me up.”

 

            “It didn’t squeak!  I was very careful.”

 

            “Who are you listening to?” asked Hugo.

 

            “Mum and Dad.  Now shut up, I’m trying to listen.”

 

            “What’re they saying?”

 

            “Hold your hippogriffs for just a moment!”  Rose took out the earpiece and held it in her fingers.  “Lean here.”  She leaned her head to the right and listened.

 

            “--and then Harry and I will go into the house with the other Aurors.  We hope to find the cells where they keep the prisoners.  They take them and allow payment in exchange for the privilege of murdering them.  It’s completely sick.”

 

            “And you’re going to allow your team of Aurors, two of whom--”

 

            “Two of whom volunteered.  It was their idea to go in the first place.  Harry and I sat down and reasoned it out, but it’s a solid plan.  It makes perfect sense.  Whoever is in charge of this murder-ring would certainly want to capture me and Harry.  We helped stop You-Know-Who and Harry has always been famous.  Any wizard with pureblood mania would pay millions of Galleons to kill me and Harry.”

 

            “Oh, Ron, stop talking like that!”

 

            “It’s true.  So if whoever is in charge has their focus on fighting and capturing Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and his sidekick, Ronald Weasley, then other Aurors will have a chance to infiltrate the rest of the house.  Only, of course it won’t be--”

 

            “What are you two doing?” interrupted Scorpius from the bottom of the stair.

 

            Rose looked crossly at him.  “Shh!  We’re eavesdropping on my parents.  Come here.”  When Scorpius had climbed the stairs and sat down behind them, Rose asked, “Why are you awake?”

 

            “I haven’t really been asleep.  I was going to come upstairs and . . .”  Scorpius’ voice trailed off.  “Well, never mind that now.” 

 

            “You were going to sneak upstairs and snog my sister, weren’t you?” asked Hugo, making a face.  “It’s all right, I know you snog her.  You don’t have to keep it a secret.”

 

            “Shut it, Hugo.  I’m trying to listen.”  Rose leaned back towards the Extendable Ear.  She heard nothing at first, but then her parents’ voices came through again.

 

            “You don’t know that will happen, Hermione!  For Merlin’s sake, I will feel so guilty if anything happens to anyone on my team.  I don’t need you to make me feel guiltier than I already will.”

 

            “I’m only concerned for you.  I love you so much and I don’t want . . .”  Her mother sounded as though she was trying not to cry.  “I don’t want anything to happen to you.  I love you so much.”

 

            There was another pause and then her father’s voice stood out against the silence.  His tone was strong but caring.  “Don’t cry, don’t cry, you’ll wake everyone.  It’s okay.  I love you, I love you.  You’re my life.  I’ll be careful.  When this is all over, I’m going to be coming home to you.  I won’t be going anywhere else.  I’ll be alive and healthy and home.”

 

            “Okay,” choked Hermione.

 

            There were the sounds of shuffling and something wet, but Rose couldn’t quite make out the noises.  She glanced at Hugo, who exchanged her look and shrugged, clearly not knowing what was happening either.  

 

            “Are we going to do this right here?” asked Hermione.  “We could go upstairs.”

 

            “It’s not like we haven’t made love on this table a hundred times already.”

 

            “I know, but the children--”

 

            “Are all asleep,” assured Ron.  “I want to be inside you,” he whispered.

 

            “OH MY GOD!” shrieked Rose, dropping the Extendable Ear and jumping up.  

 

            “MERLIN’S BALLS!” yelled Hugo.  He pulled on his ears.

 

            “That is disgusting.  Horrible.  I’ll never be the same again.”

 

            “You might want to grab your Ear,” said Scorpius. 

 

            Rose looked at the bottom of the stairs.  “Crap!”  She jumped down the stairs two at a time and snatched up the Extendable Ear.

 

            “ _Lumos!_ ” Hermione came into the hallway and looked at the three of them, standing on the stairs.  “Er, children?  What are you doing?”

 

            Rose stuck her hands behind her back.  “Nothing.  We all just thought we’d wake up bright and early for our first day back at Hogwarts.”  She cleared her throat.  “So, er, breakfast then?”

 

            Hermione frowned, but Rose just smiled and went to her, kissing her cheek.  “I’ll miss you, Mum, when I get back to school.”

 

            “Well,” said Hermione, “about Hogwarts . . .”

 

XXXXXXX

 

            Rose stood in the doorway of her front door, watching her father drive their car down the road and away from the house.  It took some pleading, but her parents, against their better judgments, allowed Rose and Scorpius to stay behind at the house while they took Hugo to King’s Cross.

 

            “You are not allowed to leave the house,” said Hermione, setting down the ground rules, “and I know there are protection spells and barriers over the gardens, but I don’t want you outside.  Also, you are not allowed in any of the bedrooms, especially yours, Rose.  Please stay in the kitchen or watch the telly.  We’ll be back in less than two hours.”

 

            Rose kept her mouth shut, but she knew that being in a kitchen clearly didn’t stop her parents from making love.  Her mother looked so worried as she walked out the door, as though it might actually be the last time she would see her daughter.  Rose felt perfectly safe in her own house.  Her mother’s spells were stronger than anyone else’s and she had helped create many spells used by the Ministry.  She was powerful, but her mother always had a small doubt that she was never quite good enough.  Rose knew this and she knew this was one reason why her mother worried so much.  For what if there was a weakness somewhere in her protection spells and someone found that weakness and broke into the house?  But Rose was confident in her mother’s abilities to keep her safe.

 

            “Aren’t you cold?” asked Scorpius, standing behind Rose.  “Come inside.”

 

            Rose closed the front door.  She smiled at Scorpius.  “Can we have a few minutes before you leave?”

 

            “Yes,” said Scorpius.

 

            “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” asked Rose.  “It’s going to be so dangerous.”

 

            “I’m sure.  I’m overly sure.  I need to do this, for my mother and my father.  For both of them.”

 

            Rose nodded.  “I understand.  Actually, no, I don’t, but I’m trying.  It’s hard because I don’t want you to go, but I know that you feel you have to.”

 

            “What did you say to your father that convinced him to contact the Ministry and let me accompany my father to the safe house?”

 

            Rose shrugged.  “I know how to manipulate my dad.”  She felt guilty saying it.

 

            “I’m so sorry.  I never should have put you in that position.”

 

            “Shut up,” said Rose, rolling her eyes.  “You don’t make me do anything I don’t want to do.  Now kiss me.”

 

XXXXXXX

 

            Scorpius arrived at the Ministry via the Floo Network.  An Auror waited for him at the fireplace.  He had a wand in his hand and Scorpius could see two more in his pockets.

 

            “In case one gets broken,” the Auror answered.  “Ask me the question.”

 

            “What’s your favorite flavor of jam?”  Rose’s father had been over this before.  He was able to contact the Ministry and set up the Floo connection between his house and the Ministry for Scorpius to travel through.  It would be a one-way passage, to open at noon on the dot.  It would only remain open for thirty seconds before sealing, so Scorpius had to leave right on time.  Ron had told him an Auror would be waiting for him on the other side, but they had to ask each other safe questions, to ensure they were who they said they were.

 

            “Blackberry.  Yours?”

            

            “Apricot.”

 

            The Auror nodded.  “Good.  Let’s go.  My name’s Silver Skinner.”

 

            “I’m Scorpius Malfoy.”

 

            “I know who you are.”

 

            Silver led Scorpius through the Ministry.  He skipped past the line of visitors waiting for their wands to be examined and went straight to the lifts.  Scorpius followed and kept his mouth shut.  He entered the lift and allowed it to take them to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in silence.  He exited the lift behind Silver and immediately felt several pairs of eyes on him.  Many of the workers stopped what they were doing to watch.

 

            “In here,” said Silver, opening a door to the conference room.  He stepped aside, allowing Scorpius to enter.  

 

            He looked around the room.  He had been here just a few days ago.  Scorpius turned around, ready to ask Silver when he got to see his father, but the Auror was gone and the door shut.  Scorpius went to the door and tried the handle, but it was locked.

            

            “Great,” muttered Scorpius.  He sat down at the long table, not even bothering to try his wand on the door.  He tapped his fingers against the tabletop and wondered how long he’d be in this room before he got to see his father.  Five minutes passed, then ten, then twenty.  It was almost a half hour before the door opened again.  Silver reentered with Scorpius’ father.

 

            Draco’s hands looked to be bound, but he looked relieved to see his son.

 

            “Father,” said Scorpius, standing up.  A small tilt of Draco’s head told Scorpius not to say or do anymore.  

 

            “We’re going to do the Floo transfer from here,” said Silver.  

 

            “There isn’t a fireplace,” said Scorpius.

 

            Silver looked at him with a straight face.  “Are you a Muggle?”

 

            Scorpius’ face grew warm.  “No, of course not.  Please, magic us a fireplace.”

 

            Silver turned to the longest wall and raised his wand.  He flicked it and swished it and flicked it again.  The picture frames grew longer and thicker, becoming a mantle and from the wall a large, brick fireplace began to form.  At first it was the same dull white color as the wall, the bricks just colorless rectangles, smooth as paint.  Distinct ridges formed and the white darkened to beige, then orange, then red.  The carpet against the wall bunched and formed into wooden logs.  On top of the mantle were all the jars and vases from the pictures on the wall.  One jar was marked FLOO POWDER.

 

            Scorpius glanced at his father.  Draco looked bored and unimpressed.

 

            “Speak very clearly,” said Silver.  He handed Draco a piece of paper.  “That has the address written on it.  I haven’t read it.  It’s charmed so that only you can read it.  Even Scorpius can’t read it.”

 

            Scorpius glanced at the paper.  It looked blank to him.

 

            “I have another paper for you, Scorpius.”  Silver handed him a piece of paper.  “Again, no one else can read it except for you.  There is one Auror at the safe house, a guard.  Only she, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley know the location of the safe house.  I will leave the room and then you can say the address aloud.  Once you’ve both used the Floo Network, I will come back in the room and seal the fireplace from this end.  Draco, you need to go first.  Your safe passage is more important.  Then Scorpius, it shall be your turn.”

 

            Silver left the room and shut the door behind him.  Scorpius nodded at his father. 

 

            “Your turn,” he said.

 

            Draco nodded.  He took a handful of Floo Powder and stepped into the fireplace.  

            

            “Wait,” said Scorpius.  He took his wand out of his pocket and handed it to his father.  “I don’t know what will happen, but just in case, take my wand.  I’ll only be a few seconds behind you, but maybe that’ll be all it takes to Stun the Auror before I get there.  I don’t want to waste any time.”

 

            Draco nodded again.  “Thank you.  I love you, son.  This is for your mother.”

 

            “Right,” said Scorpius, stepping away from his father.  “Okay, then, let’s get on with it.”

 

Draco’s mouth spoke words, but Scorpius only heard a strange _swoosh_ , as though a silent wind had swept his father’s words away.  Green flames rose from the bottom of the fireplace and enveloped Draco.  As suddenly as the flames came, they disappeared, leaving the fireplace empty.

 

            Scorpius glanced at his own piece of paper.  He thought it was odd he couldn’t understand the words his father spoke, but perhaps that was part of the Fidelius Charm that he didn’t fully understand.  Scorpius grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and stepped into the fireplace.

 

            “ _Number Twenty-Two Hampton Road!_ ” he said, very loudly and clearly.  He threw the powder at his feet and allowed the flames to take him.  It was only moments later that he came stumbling out of the fireplace.  He looked around the kitchen.  There were dishes washing themselves in the sink and a needle and thread mending a pair of trousers by the kitchen table.  An owl hooted in the open window, carrying a newspaper in its claws.  On the other side of the kitchen table sat a witch, her red hair streaked with a few stands of gray.  She had a book open in front of her and a mug full of coffee in her hands.  She looked up from her book.

 

            “Oh hello, Scorpius,” she said.  She stood from the table and went to the owl.  She took the newspaper and gave him an owl treat.  The owl hooted and flew out the window.  She closed it and went back to the table.  She closed her book and opened the newspaper.  “That owl cannot manage to get here in the morning to save his life.  He always comes at about one o’clock every afternoon.  Isn’t that mad?  Barmy little thing, that owl.  Don’t just stand there, have a seat.”

 

            “Where’s my father?”

 

            “He’s at the safe house.”

 

            Scorpius felt the heat rise in his face.  “Then where am I?”

 

            “Oh, you’re at my house, dear.”

 

            Scorpius shut his eyes.  He reached into his pocket, but of course!  He’d given his wand to his father.  _Shit_.  He was enraged.  He tried to run to the table, to throw the books and newspapers off it, to demand to be taken to the safe house, but he only got about five feet before something pushed him back and he fell onto the stone floor.

 

            “Sorry about that.  I thought you might be really angry, so I put a protection spell around the fireplace.  I’ll take it down when I’m quite sure you won’t destroy my kitchen.  I have some scones I made this morning or I can make you a sandwich if you’re hungry.  Just whenever I’m sure the homicidal rage has passed.  You do understand.”

 

            “GINNY POTTER!” yelled Scorpius, standing and pounding his fists against the invisible wall.  “You don’t understand what you’ve done!  LET ME OUT!”

 

            Ginny took a sip of her coffee and looked over the top of her cup at Scorpius.  “I understand exactly what I’ve done.  Stop yelling.  My neighbors will hear.  They’re Muggles, you know.  They can’t understand how my tulips stay bloomed in the middle of a frost, bless them.”  She turned the page of her newspaper.  “Harry was thinking of retiring after that.  Perhaps do some part time work as a Quidditch coach, train new Seekers.  He’s still brilliant at Quidditch.  Hasn’t quite got the stamina he used to for the sport, but he’ll spot the Snitch before even the best players in the league.  Amazing, that.”

 

            “I’m sure,” mumbled Scorpius.

 

            “Have a seat,” said Ginny.  She flicked her wand and a chair from next to the fireplace came sliding across the floor and hit the back of Scorpius’ knees, causing him to lose his balance and forcing him to sit.  “Now, I know you want to be with your father, but my brother had this sneaking suspicion that you wanted to do something insane like take him away from the safe house.”

 

            Scorpius crossed his arms.  This was ridiculous.  He was so unprepared for _this_ that he couldn’t even think of ways out of it.  He didn’t have his wand and from what he knew of Ginny Potter, there would be no way he could take her unarmed.  She was brilliant at Defensive spells and would probably have him gagged and bound before he could take three steps.

 

            “Don’t be upset.  I have some roast turkey.  I could slice it up for a sandwich?  Have you calmed down yet?”

 

            Scorpius simply stared at Ginny.

 

            “I see not.  That’s fine.  I’m going to read my newspaper, if that’s all right with you.  We’ve had a very busy holiday and I’ve scarcely had time to relax.”  Ginny’s eyes scanned over the newspaper.  The silence hurt Scorpius’ ears.

            

            “Whose idea was this?”

 

            “My brother’s, if you can believe it.  Hermione has really rubbed off on him, hasn’t she?”

 

            “I don’t know either of them that well, so if you say so.”

 

            “I do say so.”  Ginny looked at him.  “You know, Scorpius, I think you’re incredibly selfish.  My brother and sister-in-law took you in.  They gave you a place to stay for Christmas so you wouldn’t be alone.  My brother offered to let you stay at their house indefinitely if you needed a place to stay.  They were very welcoming to you.  And you have done what in return?  Plotted against all their efforts to keep you and your father safe.  It’s selfish.  You’re seventeen.  My husband has been tracking Dark wizards practically all his life, but you somehow think you know better.”

 

            Scorpius felt shamed.  He hadn’t looked at it that way.  But then, he was a true Slytherin.  He saw his own needs and goals and no one else mattered.  He wanted something so he schemed to find a way to get it.  He wanted to help his father escape.  He wanted to join his father against the wizards who had killed his mother.  He had been completely blind to who he may hurt in the process.  Except for Rose.  He was always very well aware that he may hurt Rose, but he tried to keep her out of it as much as possible . . . hadn’t he?

 

            “Don’t be angry with Rose.  She had no idea this would happen.  My niece is very precious to me.”

 

            “I’m sorry.  You don’t know what it’s like to lose a parent.  I just want revenge.”

 

            The kitchen door opened and Harry Potter walked inside.  Scorpius met his gaze briefly before looking at the needle and thread fixing the pocket of the unfortunate trousers.

 

            “Hello.  I would say ‘Nice to see you,’ but I expect it’s not really nice at all.  Ginny, can I see you for a moment upstairs?”

 

            “Sure, love.”  

 

            Scorpius was left alone in the room.  He reached his hand out, but the invisible barrier was still there.  He wished he had that newspaper to read.  Ginny was gone for almost an hour – or at least, that’s what it felt like to Scorpius.

 

            “You changed your clothes,” he said, as she reentered the room.  Her hair was different, too, pulled back in a ponytail instead of hanging around her face.

 

            “Well, the others had flour on them from when I cooked breakfast.  Are you ready to get out of time out?”

 

            Scorpius wasn’t amused.

 

            Ginny raised her wand and the barriers melted away.  “Do you want to go back to my brother’s house?”

 

            “Not really,” said Scorpius.  He was surprised at what he said, but it was true.  He just didn’t want to have to talk to Rose or her father right now.  He wanted to just be left alone.  “I want to see my father.”

 

            “Well, I don’t know about that.  Not today.  There is entirely too much happening.  Come sit here.”  Ginny sat down at the table and pulled out the chair next to her.  “Come on.”

 

            Scorpius stood and went towards Ginny.  He sat down and looked at her.  “Yes?”

 

            “When I was sixteen, Harry went traipsing off with Hermione and Ron, and I was left back at home by myself.  Then I went to Hogwarts, which was much more like I would imagine hell.  It was truly horrible.  Kids were beaten and the professors taught us nothing useful and I was completely in the dark.  My entire family was being hunted by the Death Eaters.  I wanted to run after Harry and help him.  He was searching for something, but I didn’t know what and I didn’t know how to help him.  So I stayed at school and did what I could to protect my friends and myself.  When the Final Battle came to Hogwarts, I was prepared to fight.  I had practiced my spells and I knew how to defend myself.  But what I thought I was ready for, I wasn’t.  There was so much death and those who didn’t die were wounded.  If not physically, then mentally.  None of us will ever be the same.”

            

            Scorpius just looked at Ginny, not really sure how he was supposed to respond.

 

            “My point is that you’re only a year older than I was back then.  I wasn’t ready to deal with the hardships of a fight.  I watched my favorite professor and his wife die, and I watched their son become an orphan.  Some of my friends stayed behind to fight and were killed.  My brother Fred died.  We don’t talk about him very much around George, so I don’t know if you’ve heard much about him.”

 

            “Rose has mentioned him a few times, so I know who he was.”

 

            Ginny nodded and Scorpius thought her eyes were growing wet; they shined like glass.  “Fred was lively.  He was funny and clever and beautiful – truly.  I loved all my brothers, of course, but I wasn’t as close to Bill or Charlie or Percy.  They were too much older than me.  So I was closest to Ron and the twins.  I’d thought about my family dying, everyday actually.  I thought about Harry dying, too.  Then, when it actually happened, I wasn’t prepared for it.  I thought I was, but I was fooling myself.  I was sixteen!  I didn’t know what that kind of loss would feel like.  It was devastating.”

 

            “I’ve lost my mum,” said Scorpius quietly.  “It’s been rather devastating.”

 

            “Of course,” said Ginny sympathetically, “but imagine what you’d feel like if you went with your father to that house and suddenly you’re in a fight and you watched your father die.  And what if you’re there, at that same house and you have to kill someone in order to save your own life.  I killed a Death Eater during the Final Battle.  I don’t ever really talk about it.”

 

            “The Killing Curse?”

 

            Ginny shook her head.  “No, I don’t think that curse would’ve worked for me if I’d tried.  I dropped a chandelier in one of the ballrooms on a Death Eater who was fighting my friend Dean.  I didn’t mean for it to kill him, but it did.  It was such a shock when Dean told me the Death Eater wasn’t breathing.  I didn’t have time to think about it, so we both ran to fight someone else.  I thought about it later.  Even now it’s an odd feeling.”

 

            “Do you feel guilty?”

 

            Ginny shook her head again, this time more slowly.  “No . . . not necessarily.  It’s a very odd feeling, one that I don’t think anyone else can explain unless they’ve been in the exact same situation.  I’m just trying to say that I think you’re remarkable, but you’re just too young to understand what could happen in a fight against Dark wizards.  You think you’re ready and you want to help your father avenge your mother, but you’re too young to understand all the complications that will come with that.”  

 

            Scorpius considered that Ginny knew what she was talking about, but he didn’t like the way it made him feel.  Perhaps she was right and perhaps he would have gone to the house and gotten into a fight, just to kill a Dark wizard, and perhaps it would alter him forever.  But all the ‘perhaps’ in the world could not change how it would feel to never have tried.

 

            “Right,” said Scorpius.  “Right. . . .”

 

            “Do you want something to eat?” asked Ginny, standing up.  “I’m starving.”

 

            Scorpius glanced at Ginny’s wand, which sat on top of the kitchen table.  He sat up straight.  “Yes, a sandwich would be great, thanks.”

 

            Ginny smiled and turned to the kitchen counter.  She opened up a box and took out some bread.  Scorpius quickly reached for the unattended wand.

 

_BAM!_

 

            “Ooph!”  Scorpius fell off the chair.  “You hit me!”

 

            Ginny grabbed her wand and pointed it at Scorpius.  “Try to steal my wand again and I will Stun you.”

 

            “You’re not my mother,” spat Scorpius.  “You can’t keep me here.”

 

            “I may not be _your_ mother, but I am _a_ mother, and I know that your mother would want me to keep you safe.  You won’t understand until you have children, Scorpius, you just won’t.  Children are precious.  _My_ children are precious and if another mother kept my children safe, just as I am keeping you safe, I would be indebted to her forever.”

 

            Scorpius scrambled to his feet.  “Those people killed my mother!  They deserve to die!”

 

            “You don’t know the people at the Bathurst house killed your mum.  You don’t!” cried Ginny.  “Don’t go making a stupid mistake just because you’re angry.  That’s the worst kind of decision you can make.”

 

            Scorpius shook his head.  “This is ridiculous.”

 

            “You can cry if you want,” said Ginny softly.  “I understand.  Your mum’s only been gone for a little more than a week.  Everything you’re feeling is natural.”

 

            “You don’t have to be so nice to me.”

 

            Ginny nodded.  “Yes, I do.  My sister-in-law tries.  She’s a great mum, but she’s not always in touch with her emotional side.  I suspect no one’s really tried to talk to you, have they?  I expected when you showed up here that you’d be furious, which is why I set up the protection spell around the fireplace.  I also thought you might have a breakdown, from what Hermione has told me.  She says Rose has tried to talk to you, but you’re very quiet and she’s only heard you cry once or twice.  She said you’re just very quiet and that you don’t really seem sad.”

 

            “It’s not my house,” said Scorpius.  “It’s not my family.”

 

            “That doesn’t matter,” said Ginny.  “As long as you’re with Rose, you’re a part of us.  If you split up, then we want to remember you fondly and know that we helped you.  If you stay together forever, then we want you to remember us fondly and know that we helped you.”

 

            Scorpius rubbed his eyes.  “I don’t know.  Rose has tried to help, she really has.  But she’s so worried about things that she shouldn’t worry about.  She’s worried that we’ll break up over this or that I’ll hate her father, and I don’t have time to think about those things.  I just want to think about my mum and my dad and get through what’s happening now and not worry about what will happen in the future.”

 

            “Sit down.  Let me make you a sandwich and you can talk to me.”

 

            “But Rose—”

 

            “If Rose loves you, she won’t be upset.”  Ginny smiled again.  “I can tell her I forced you to stay.”

 

            Scorpius nodded.  “Okay,” he said.  He was still angry, but for a moment, it felt as though his mother was with hm.

 

XXXXXXX

 

            Rose had watched Scorpius take the Floo Network to the Ministry.  Most Ministry workers were not allowed connection to the Floo Network.  It was only the Heads of departments and the Minister himself.  Even then, Rose wasn’t so sure that most witches and wizards were even aware that _anyone_ could Floo to the Ministry.  

 

            She took the opportunity to turn on the television and flip around the stations for something good to watch.  She didn’t really like most of the programs that were on.  Most of them were complete crap.  She had recently tried to watch a show that was nearly twenty years old, but she kept imaging her parents instead of the actors and she’d start laughing and have to change the program.

 

            It would only be a few more minutes before her parents would be home.  And then it wouldn’t be too long before they found out that Scorpius had escaped with Draco away from the safe house.  A knock came from the front door.  Rose found that odd since her mother’s protection spells were so powerful, but perhaps it was one of her parents.

 

            Rose put her wand in her hand and went to the door.  She opened it, but there was no one there.  She took a few steps outside but didn’t see anyone, not even her Muggle neighbors, who could never quite seem to figure out why they couldn’t walk onto their front lawn.

 

            “I’m over here!” yelled a voice.

 

            Rose turned.  Towards the right side of the garden was a tree, but it did not lie on the Weasley property.  Standing there was a man with blonde hair.  He looked like Scorpius, only older.  Rose crossed the garden, comfortable that her mother’s spells would keep her safe if she needed it.

 

            “Hi. . . .” said Rose slowly.  “Why . . . are you here?”

 

            “Is my son here?”

 

            Rose blinked and looked at the house her.  “Er, no.”  She turned back to Draco.  “Why isn’t he with you?”

 

            “He never made it to the safe house.”

 

            “Why?  I don’t understand.  Are you sure?”

 

            Draco took in a deep breath, as though he was suppressing anger or annoyance.  “Of course I’m sure.  Do I look like an imbecile?”

 

            “Excuse me?”

 

            “I am frustrated.  Where is my son?”

 

            “How did you find my house?”

 

            “I’ve been here before – long story, you wouldn’t be interested.”

 

            “Well, no, Scorpius isn’t here,” said Rose.  “But now I’m really concerned.  He didn’t come back here.  Where d’you think he could be?”

 

            “Anywhere.  I don’t know where he ended up, but he was going to help break me out of the safe house—”

 

            “Yeah, and how did you get out without him?”

 

            “He gave me his wand and I Stunned the Auror as soon as I came out of the fireplace.”

 

            “And the protection spells on the house?  You couldn’t have gotten through without . . .”  Rose stopped talking and nodded.  “You dragged the Auror across the wards, didn’t you?”

 

            “They don’t call me a Dark wizard for nothing.”

 

            “Did you just make a joke?  You’re a lot like Scorpius, aren’t you?  This is a completely inappropriate time for a joke, isn’t it?”

 

            “It wasn’t a joke.  I’m very angry,” said Draco.  “If my son isn’t here, then where is he?  He doesn’t have a wand.  Is this all a big joke done by your father?  Is there a reason why he didn’t want Scorpius to visit me at the safe house?”

 

            “I don’t know,” said Rose.  “Oh god.  This is all my fault.  I told my father to make sure there was a guard at the safe house, to keep Scorpius safe.  I only wanted to keep Scorpius safe, I promise.  I’m sorry.  My god, this is my fault.”

 

            “Where would your father would have sent him if he thought he was keeping him safe for you?”

 

            Rose shook her head.  “I have no idea.  He’s probably still at the Ministry.”

 

            “And if he wasn’t?”

 

            Rose kept shaking her head.  “I don’t know.  But unless he’s being held at the Ministry, then I imagine he’s probably trying to escape and get . . . to you.”

 

            Draco and Rose held each other’s gaze for several moments.

 

            “Does he know where the Bathursts live?” asked Rose quickly.

 

            “Yes.”

 

            “Then that’s where we need to go.”

 

            “I’m not taking you.  I will go by myself.  My son is out there without a wand.  I’m not losing both my wife _and_ my son.”

 

            Rose stepped through the protection barriers.  “I’m going with you.”

 

            Draco raised his wand and pressed it to Rose’s throat.  “If you try to follow me, I will kill you.”

 

            “No, you won’t.”

 

            “I will Stun you.”

 

            “Let me go with you,” said Rose, looking Draco straight in the eye.

 

            “No.”  Draco removed his wand from Rose’s throat.

 

            She watched as he turned the wand towards himself to Disapparate.  It was as though everything was in slow motion and Draco was slowly fading away.  He was only partially visible when Rose grabbed hold of his sleeve.  She felt herself behind pulled and pushed at the same time.  And when she opened her eyes, she was no longer home.

 

XXXXXXX

 

**To Be Continued . . .**

 

XXXXXXX


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